Resident Evil
by biomechanical
Summary: Deep underneath Raccoon City lies a secret lab and test facility known as the Hive. The TARDIS crash lands inside leaving the Doctor wounded and on his own. What will the Umbrella Corporation do to the alien Time Lord while he recuperates in their capable hands? DW post-S4, RE pre-1st film. WHUMP, contains torture. No slash. AU
1. Chapter 1

A/N:  
Timeline - Doctor Who just after Planet of the Dead. Resident Evil before the first film.

This story is a whump fic involving dark, torturous and vile things happening to both the Doctor and the TARDIS that you may find uncomfortable, disturbing, and maybe even a little impossible. If that sounds like your cup of tea, then please read on!

Please know that I have seen only the first three RE films, I have not read any of the books or played the games. Hence this is an alternate universe story where the T-virus had not yet been developed. However, I did research certain points for both RE and DW, so if something seems off or 'not right', just shoot me a PM and I will be glad to share my source.

Happy reading!

* * *

The Doctor stood in the TARDIS just inside the double blue doors. He rested his forehead against them and tried to focus on the feel of the wood rather the internal storm of emotions that raged inside him.

Christina had pleaded with him to let her join him in touring the universe, but he had coldly refused her...and regretted it ever since. He had really wanted, very desperately so, to take her with him, but he just...couldn't.

All he wanted to do was see the universe and didn't want to see it alone. But every person that has traveled with him has ended up somehow destroyed. Rose, Jack, Martha, Donna, just to name the most recent few who dared step foot in the TARDIS. They wanted to see the stars and he took each of them by the hand leading the way to pain.

How could he let them get hurt and yet save entire planets? It just wasn't fair, the Doctor thought as he clenched his fist. Now he faced an ominous prophecy that his song was about to end and that terrified him more than anything he had ever faced. The not knowing how or when, he hated it.

He slammed his fist against the TARDIS door.

Drawing in a deep breath, he focused on controlling his emotions and turned around staring absently at the center console. The sight of it always calmed him. A weak smile played across his features as he gazed upon the soft glowing interior of his ship. His TARDIS. Always there for him. Always by his side. His best friend.

The Doctor nodded slightly as he made the decision that he was not going to dwell on these dark thoughts any longer. He shoved the pain of loneliness aside once again. Run. He's good at running and run is exactly what he was going to keep doing.

He shrugged off his long coat and flung it toward its usual resting place in the split of a coral support beam by the door. With a new sense of purpose, he rushed to the console. With the pull of a level, he sent the TARDIS flying into the time vortex.

Just the sound of the engines propelling the ship through time and space eased the Doctor's mind and shifted his thoughts toward the adventure that lay before him. He had no idea where the TARDIS was taking him and he really didn't care. What he needed lay just beyond those doors, that was the only thing that mattered.

Suddenly, the TARDIS lurched hard enough to knock the Doctor off his feet. He didn't remain sprawled out across the grated floor for long. He sprang back up in an instant. Holding on to a handle with one hand, the Doctor grabbed the monitor with the other and swung it around. Gallifreyan flashed on the screen as the time ship rocked back and forth uncontrollably.

The Doctor raised his left eyebrow as he stared at the information with a puzzled look. "What?" He scrunched the bridge of his nose as he spoke aloud to the empty room. "An energy beam? In the time vortex? Impossible!" Then the Doctor's eyes widened as he watched the TARDIS head straight for the beam like a moth toward the flame.

A fountain of sparks erupted from the console when the TARDIS struck the energy beam. The ship spun out of control. The Doctor was forced to let go of the console to shield his face from the fiery sparks and he was flung hard against the bench seat like a rag doll.

He landed face down on the grated floor and this time, he remained there. Pain shot through his back from being bent over backward across the bench and he whimpered involuntarily when he tried to move. But that was only one of his many growing problems.

Fire raged from the console sending a thick black smoke billowing into the air. Sparks snapped and popped out sporadically in all directions creating small singed holes in the Doctor's blue suit where they landed on him. The worst was yet to come, and the Doctor knew it.

The TARDIS was still in flight, hurtling toward... some when. Without seeing the monitor, the Doctor had no idea if he was still in the time vortex or not. All that he knew was that she had yet to land and he wasn't sure he was going to survive it this time.

A small explosion echoed through the console room as the fire spread through the wiring under the grated floor. The Doctor could feel the heat build and the stench of the burning wires filled his nostrils. With pain stabbing in his back like knives, he rolled over to his side. Through tear-filled eyes, he stared up at the console slowing being engulfed in flames, but he reached out and grabbed a hold on the console edge to pull himself up.

The blast that erupted from the console happened quickly and unexpectedly.

The Doctor was thrown back across the floor, scraping his exposed hand over the sharp edges of the grating. He flailed out his arms and legs in reflex as he flew between the metal bars of the railing. He cried out as his right arm and leg hit the rail. He heard the snap, felt the crack in his bones.

Once past the railing, the Doctor's limp body continued to slide across the floor until he hit the wall. His head slammed against the wall with a knock that resounded through his clouding mind and the pain in his back started anew. Darkness threatened to overtake his consciousness, but he fought it off with fierce determination.

The TARDIS was burning and he had to escape or he would burn with her.

He made an attempt to stand, but ended up drawing a sharp breath as pain shot through his arm, leg and back as if he were being electrocuted. Refusing to lie there and die, he screamed and forced his body to climb to his feet. At last he stood. Relying on his uninjured leg to slowly limp his way toward the exit, he coughed and choked in the thick smoke that hung so low to the floor.

As he neared the coral support beam near the door, he staggered forward and wrapped his good arm around it to remain upright. When he bent over in a fit of coughing, he noticed his blood dripping on the floor and couldn't deny how much it hurt to breath. He clenched his eyes closed as he realized that a rib or two must be broken.

That, however, was not the most pressing matter at hand.

The Doctor glanced over at the console ablaze with raging tongues of flame flickering from the floor through the grating. "I am an idiot," he said and pulled out his sonic screwdriver. He aimed it at the console and the squealing of the sonic lasted only long enough to activate the ship's fire sprinklers.

Water and foam rained from the ceiling over the console making the fire sizzle and pop as it fought for life. The smoke thickened as the fire was slowly extinguished, but the persistent fire had one last explosion to give.

Parts of the console flew in all directions from the blast and the Doctor spun around the coral beam toward the door. He felt pieces of shrapnel embed all along his side like he had been peppered with bullets. As he sank to his knees, he reached for the door handle and pulled.

A bright white light filled the doorway and spilled over him, blinding him as he fell to the floor and succumbed to the unconsciousness that so easily claimed him.

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Raccoon City.

A sprawling industrial metropolis serving as the workplace and home to tens of thousands of people. The residents of Raccoon City are an unsuspecting people living out their daily lives completely unaware of the danger that lurks underneath.

Known only to certain employees of the Umbrella Corporation and the company's military security group, the Hive is an extensive, multi-level complex built deep underground. Accessible only by a single subway line between the facility and a private mansion on the surface, the Hive is the highly top secret viral research and development center of the controversial mega-corporation.

In the upper levels of the Hive, office staff take care of the paperwork required by the company. Many go about their relatively benign daily work, relying on the computer controlled environment to simulate the outside world through giant video screens cleverly designed to look like windows.

Down in the lower levels, scientists work diligently day in and day out on the development of potential drugs and viruses that Umbrella can sell to countries around the world. Sealed in airtight laboratories, experiments are remorselessly conducted and test subjects howl for retribution.

Rarely do the employees leave the Hive and an even rarer few ever visit. Nothing marks the days spent in the underground facility as extraordinary. Except for today.

The main lobby of the Hive, designed to appear no different than the lobby of any downtown office building, was lit by pleasant fluorescent lighting inset in the vaulted ceiling with a beautiful view overlooking downtown displayed on the viewscreen windows. The central elevators were located in the lobby along with a young woman sitting behind a receptionist's desk busily filling her nails.

Two men dressed in the finest of suits entered the lobby and nodded toward the receptionist as they walked past her desk toward the elevators. One of the men sporting dark hair, was busily telling the other about the non-sequential day he'd spent pouring over reports.

Neither immediately noticed the lights flicker.

As the flickering lights worsened, the men paused and grew concerned. This was something out of the ordinary and considering that this was the Hive, the men were right to be concerned.

A wheezing grinding sound echoed in the lobby and grew louder with each passing second. Bolts of electricity arced out in all directions from the light fixtures sending sparks scattering everywhere while a breeze appeared from nowhere and began to swirl around the lobby.

"Call security now!" One of the men rushed to the receptionist, startling her into action.

"What the hell?" The dark haired man exclaimed and pointed to the ceiling.

All eyes looked up and watched a large blue box pulse in and out of existence until it finally solidified. The box screeched and wheezed like a creature crying out as it flew across the room in a downward slope. It slammed onto the floor with a shattering crash and slid across the smooth polished tiles until it came to a rest against the viewscreen window wall.

The swirling wind ended as suddenly as it began. One by one, the lights stopped flickering and stayed steadily on. The lobby fell into an eerie silence save for the sizzling snapping sounds emanating from the blue box.

The receptionist climbed to her feet and stared in disbelief, still holding the phone her hand. "Mr. Grey, what is that?" She asked in a whispered voice.

"Police public call box?" Mr. Grey shook his head. "I don't know." He motioned to his co-worker and the two men cautiously approached the blue box.

One of the double doors of the police box opened and black smoke pumped out. The men took a step back and coughed a moment. Grey buried his nose and mouth in the crook of his elbow and continued forward. He was determined to know what was beyond the smoke that concealed whatever was inside.

Then, a blood soaked arm wrapped in the sleeve of a tattered blue suit flopped out across the threshold. There was someone in that blue box and that person was hurt, badly.

"There's someone in there! Help me!" Grey said to his co-worker. Both men entered the box long enough to grab the body and pull him out. Coughing and waving away the smoke, they laid the injured man on the floor a few feet away from the box.

"Who is he?" The receptionist asked as she came from around her desk.

Mr. Grey shook his head. "I have no idea," he said. "But he's hurt pretty bad. Look." He pointed to the several shards of metal protruding from the unconscious man's arm, side and leg.

The quick stomping boots of the security team echoed from the corridor and in a matter of seconds, the lobby was filled with black clad, rifle carrying soldiers. The soldiers fanned out and surrounded both the police box and the intruder bleeding out on the floor.

The two men in suits were yanked away and the Head of Security knelt beside the injured man. With hard eyes, she glanced over the man's wounds. She sighed and tapped a button on her earpiece. "Sir. This is Alice. We have an intruder. Male in his mid-thirties with substantial wounds. There is also a large box that seems to be on fire. I don't know how he got in, sir." She nodded. "Yes, sir. I'll collect statements from the witnesses while we wait for the doctors. Out."

Alice rose to her feet. "I want the area secure. No one leaves and no one gets near that thing." She pointed to the box. As the soldiers carried out her command, she walked over to the two men and receptionist and began her interrogation.

A few minutes later, the medical team arrived and rushed immediately to the injured intruder. As they began their examination, they exchanged curious glances hinted with the excitement of a new discovery.

The man's blood was not the expected crimson red. It was orange red.

.

.

To be continued!


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thanks for the favs, follows and reviews! I appreciate it :)

* * *

The Doctor's senses slowly became aware of the world around him, but he was not yet ready to open his eyes. He enjoyed the relaxed state that was also blessedly pain free. He listened to a soft whirring sound that he imagined to be a fan blowing warm summer air. With a small smile, he drew in a breath and found it to be disturbingly sterile. Another sniff and he detected the faint odor of chemicals, the kind of chemicals found in a hospital.

He eyes flew open and he instantly regretted such a drastic move. The bright light reflected mercilessly off the stainless steel walls and stainless steel ceiling acting like lances driving into his skull. He pinched his eyes closed and moaned in the relief the darkness his eyelids gave him.

"He's waking up," said a woman in an even tone. Her voice sounded distant in the Doctor's hazy mind.

Cold fingers touched the Doctor's face and he flinched as his right eye was forced open. The blinding light of a pen light shined in his eye and the pain it caused burned like fire through his head. With a groan, he turned his head away from the light and out of the chilly fingers.

"Hello, whatever you are," the woman said evenly as she bent over the Doctor.

The Doctor did not like her tone of voice at all. It sounded... predatory. He slowly turned his head and opened one eye. Peering at the middle-aged woman with sandy blonde hair, he noticed the calculating look in her green eyes. He also noticed she wore a white lab coat that was all too hospital-like.

He did have a particular distaste for waking up hospitals. The last time he did that he ended up dying at the hands of Grace and every other time he went to a hospital, something bad would happen. Well, at least there didn't seem to be any cats about. "Who are..." he swallowed as his voice cracked in his dry throat and turned into a hoarse cough.

"Good. He can talk." She glanced up to someone else.

A new face entered the Doctor's view, drawing his weary gaze away from the woman to an older man with graying hair wearing the same type of white lab coat as the woman. "I'm Doctor Friedman," he said with a smile that seemed just as predatory as the woman's too.

"And I am Doctor Bolt." The woman introduced herself with a smile that seemed out of character for her. "Why don't you tell us your name?"

"Water," the Doctor's voice rasped, "please."

Friedman reached over to a small metal table next to the bed and held a cup of water to the Doctor's dry lips.

The water felt cool and refreshing on the Doctor's dry and smoke scorched throat. He emptied the contents in a couple of swallows. "Thank you," he said after the cup was taken away. "Allo. I'm the Doctor." He offered a small, friendly smile.

"Is that a British accent?" Bolt asked. "Is that where you come from?"

"Do I have a British accent?" Thanks to the water, he found it much easier to talk and despite the skin on his right cheek feeling tight, talking helped his mind come back into focus. "I do spend a lot of time there, so I suppose it only makes sense that I picked up the accent. Now that we're getting to know each other a bit, why don't you tell me where I am?"

"That is confidential." Friedman answered. "Especially since you just appeared in our lobby. How did you do that?"

"I just appeared?"

"In a large blue box that was apparently on fire."

The TARDIS. Memories of the explosion, smoke and fire flooded through the Doctor's thoughts and he wondered if his beloved ship was somehow alright. He also wondered if her doors were safely closed. He certainly didn't want these people crawling around inside the time machine as he was sure that an alien spaceship would be of high interest to anyone. Since he didn't recall leaving the TARDIS, he had to assume the doors were open.

The Doctor glanced between the two doctors with a bit of apprehension.

He looked about the room and realized that he was not in fact in a hospital. The stainless steel interior spoke of a place much worse than a hospital. The faint whirring sound he heard as he awoke caught his attention and he saw that it was not a fan at all but a liquid separating machine that was currently filled with an all too familiar orange red blood.

With a quick glance at his arm, he saw a hypodermic needle buried in his vein pumping in a clear liquid he knew to be simply saline. In the same glance, he also noted that he was no longer dressed in his clothes. He now wore a white hospital gown, that he was pretty sure was not flattering on him at all, and his wounds were cleaned and dressed.

Still, he was in some sort of laboratory. The last sort of place he ever wanted to be. He would take a hospital over some lab any day.

With a moment's hesitation, he bolted upright... or rather he tried to bolt upright. He cried out as pain shocked through his chest hard enough to make him flop back down. Clutching his ribs with the arm that didn't hurt, he snarled in frustration. He wasn't going anywhere and to help seal that fact home, Friedman grabbed the Time Lord's shoulders and pinned him to the bed.

"Get the restraints," Friedman said to Bolt, then looked down into the Doctor's eyes. "You're hurt too badly to be fighting us. Let us take care of you."

Words straight out of a nightmare the Doctor hoped he would wake from any second now. But of course he knew that this nightmare was all too real. "Let me up!" He demanded with a fury in his eye as he glared at Friedman.

Bolt immediately rushed away and returned all too quickly with white, padded straps and cuffs. She easily held the Doctor's arms and legs down in his weakened state to slip the restraints into place and cinch them tight. In a matter of seconds, the Time Lord was strapped to the bed.

"Release me!" The Doctor shouted with anger, frustration and pain in his voice. He cursed his injuries and he cursed his temporary weakness because of those injuries. Until his body healed, he was stuck there and he knew it. Fortunately, his body was a quick healer.

Friedman released the Doctor's shoulders and stood up, straightening his lab coat. "I don't think you are in a position to go anywhere." The scientist smiled. "We still have to get to know each other."

"You want to know who I am?" The Doctor lifted his head and glared at his captors. "I'm the Doctor," he said in a threatening tone.

Friedman and Bolt glanced at each other and shook their head. Obviously, they had never heard of him. "You've already said that. Is it supposed to mean something?" Bolt asked the Time Lord and crossed her arms expectantly.

He let his head fall back to the thin mattress and sighed. So much for that, the Doctor thought as he pursed his lips. All he could really do now was wait and heal.

"So you're a doctor," Friedman said with genuine curiosity. "What kind of doctor would that be?"

"I'm not a doctor. Well, most of the time," the Time Lord answered with a roll of his eyes. "I'm just the Doctor."

"I see," Friedman said in the way a psychologist would speak to his patient. "Is that a code name for you? Were you developed by the British government as some sort of weapon?"

"What?" The Doctor asked and arched his eyebrow. "No! It's my name. Simple as that."

"What are you?" Bolt asked rather bluntly. Her demeanor made it clear that she was getting impatient with the small talk banter and wanted to move on to the more important details.

"I'm not anything," the Doctor said defiantly with a nonchalant shrug of the shoulder that didn't hurt.

"Not anything? You're blood is orange and you have two hearts beating in that broken chest of yours," she pointed her finger at the Doctor in a threatening manner, "and you're not anything? Care to try again?" She raised an impatient eyebrow and glared at him expectantly.

For a moment, the Doctor glared at the woman as he considered the situation he was in. He knew good and well that these scientists were aware that a creature that wasn't quite human had literally landed in their laps. The question is, how was he going to get out of here without revealing too much?

Maintaining eye contact with Bolt, his expression softened. "Well, alright. Let's see. What am I? Oh. I'm a guy who likes bananas. Yep. That's me. Banana man. Sounds like a superhero name, doesn't it? Na na na na na Banana Man!" He flashed Bolt a cheeky grin.

Bolt clearly failed to see the humor in the Doctor's answer as she glared rather unhappily at the Time Lord. "Don't tell us then," she said in a dark tone. "Suit yourself. Either way, I am going to learn everything there is to know about you."

The evil look in the woman's face made the Doctor frown as he watched her walk away to the other side of the laboratory. After a moment, he turned his gaze on Friedman. "Well, since it looks like I'm going to be staying here for a little bit, can you at least tell me where I am?"

"Like I said," Friedman said. "That's confidential. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must get started on some tests." With that, he turned and walked away.

Oh, just dandy, the Doctor thought as he stared at the ceiling. While he didn't learn the name of the facility, he did notice the red and white logo on each of the doctor's lab coats. The name 'Umbrella Corporation' was printed underneath the stylized umbrella logos, and the name didn't mean anything to him. He had never heard of it.

He stuck his tongue out and tasted the air. Ignoring the disconcerting steril residue, he gathered the year was the middle of 2001. Whatever the Umbrella Corporation is doing here must never have been learned by the public, UNIT or Torchwood. Otherwise he would have remembered a company by the name Umbrella.

Or was that why he was here? To put an end to this facility? There was no way to be sure without getting timey wimey about it, but the fact of the matter is that he is here and there is definitely something unpleasant going on inside this place. Perhaps something he must indeed stop.

"Why do you have your tongue out?" Bolt asked as she approached the restrained Doctor.

Pulling his tongue back in, he smiled. "I'm just being silly," he said pleasantly. "There. You learned something about me already. Me. Silly."

Bolt seemed unimpressed. She ripped the hypodermic needle out of the Doctor's arm, ignoring the drips of blood that appeared and the cringing look on his face. Grabbing the edge of the bed, that turned out to be a gurney, and she rolled the Doctor toward the laboratory door.

"Where are you taking me?" The Doctor asked taking in all the details he could see as he was wheeled by.

"To learn more about you."

Bolt's tone was so sinister, the Time Lord involuntarily shuddered.

.

.

To be continued.


	3. Chapter 3

Carl Hurst, Chief Executive Officer of Umbrella's Bio-Sciences Division, was a chiseled man in his fifties that had climbed his way to the top on the backs of not only his fellow employees, but also innocent lives of the unsuspecting populace.

He led an experiment that landed him behind the desk of his plush office. It was easy really. All he did was unleash a rat infected with a laboratory-mutated strain of rabies in a run-down apartment building. The result of that experiment was considered a success. No one in the building survived, including a reporter, her cameraman, and a team of CDC agents.

When the report that a non-human creature was captured after it had somehow infiltrated the Hive landed on his desk, Hurst immediately left his comfortable office to pay a visit to the secret facility personally. He knew that if he didn't handle this situation as quickly as possible, there would be... consequences.

As he rode the subway train into the Hive, he opened the file he had on the matter and held a photo from the file in his hand. The image depicted the intruder lying unconscious on an examination table. He looked human despite the report of orange blood and two hearts, and he looked like he'd been through hell. His clothes, a blue suit from the look of it, was tattered and burned, and several pieces of a golden metal protruded along his side. A deep gash in his hand and a large burn on his right cheek still bled.

Even more interesting than the man with two hearts was the blue box he appeared in. When it crashed in the lobby of the Hive, it was on fire from the inside. Once the crews were able to put out the fire, what they described of the box's interior was nothing short of amazing. Larger on the inside than the outside, much larger, and it appeared to be a ship of some sort, the likes of which no one had never seen.

Hurst was rather anxious to see this machine, this ship, with his own eyes.

He noted that the intruder appeared to have a British accent. He was not aware of a facility owned by Umbrella in that part of the world. Did that mean the U.K. has been developing bio-engineered weapons and teleporting machines? The evidence certainly seemed to suggest so and this creature was sent as some sort of attack that obviously went horribly wrong.

Thanks to that failure, Umbrella now had the creature and his strange machine in their possession, and it was up to Hurst to ensure that every part of them both was dissected and taken apart. He smiled because if anything was going to earn him a healthy bonus this year, it was this.

The train rolled into the station and as Hurst stepped out, he was greeted by a man with sandy blonde hair wearing the standard white lab coat of the scientific staff.

"Mr. Hurst, sir. I'm Eric Hauff." He exchanged a brief handshake with Hurst. "I've been supervising the investigation of the police box and I was told you wanted to see it first."

"Police box?" Hurst asked with a look of scrutiny.

"Oh, yes." Hauff chuckled nervously. He had the impression that Mr. Hurst was not the jovial type. "The box has signs at the top of each of its sides that read 'police public call box'. We looked it up on the internet on a whim and learned that police boxes were used by the British police force during the 60's. We don't know what else to call it, so the name stuck."

"I see," Hurst said with an annoyed frown. "Take me to it."

"Of course, sir," Hauff said quickly and began heading toward the final entrance to the Hive. "Right this way."

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The Doctor was taken down a series of hallways lined with thick windowed laboratories much like the one he awoke in. His attempts to engage Bolt in conversation didn't turn out so well. When she threatened to staple his mouth closed if he didn't shut up, he decided that she truly meant it and chose not to say another word.

Instead he occupied his mind by observing the contents of the laboratories he could see as he passed by. What he observed made his stomach turn in utter disgust.

In one lab, a caged chimpanzee ravenously devoured the entrails of another chimp that shrieked in agony as it was eaten alive while a scientist stood idly by taking notes. In another lab, a scientist held down a black doberman dog while a second busily implanted metal spikes along the animal's spine. The poor dog screamed, a sound the Doctor never wanted to hear again, while the humans that tortured it seemed unfazed by their cruelty.

This was a veritable house of horrors, and the Doctor vowed to put a stop to it. Oh, will he put an end to all this. He also realized that he was dealing with humans of the worst sort, and a part of him was concerned of what they had in store for him.

As Bolt wheeled the Doctor around a corner, he dared a glance through another laboratory window. His eyes widened in shock and horror. The TARDIS stood in the middle of the lab with her doors wide open. Thick black cables draped across her threshold connecting a series of halogen lamp stands through the blackened console room.

All too clearly, the Doctor could see that his ship was badly damaged. She looked... dead. The sight of his TARDIS in that condition sent waves of panic throughout his body. Adding to that panic was seeing people clad in white lab coats scattered throughout the console room, and a man in a suit seemed far too interested in the ship. Much too interested.

"Hey!" The Doctor shouted and struggled against the restraints despite the sharp pain wracking his chest. A pain that paled in comparison to the agony his ship felt. "Get out of my ship! You've got to close her doors so she can heal herself!"

The man in the suit turned and stared at the Doctor. The look in his eyes were cold as steel tinged only slightly with curiosity of the Doctor's words.

Bolt ignored the Doctor and continued pushing him down the hall. Once they were past the lab holding the TARDIS, the Doctor was forced to relaxed his muscles with a frustrated groan. The pain from his injuries worsened, but the mental anguish of his distressed ship was unbearable. "Please let me go." He looked up at Bolt with a pleading expression. "I'll be just fine if you'll just let me get to my ship."

The woman maintained a neutral expression and didn't even glance down at the Time Lord to acknowledge he had spoken to her. Instead, she focused her gaze ahead until she reached her destination.

.

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Hurst held his gaze on the captured intruder until the prisoner and scientist were out of sight. He turned to Hauff with a thoughtful frown. "He did say ship, didn't he?"

"He did," Hauff said. "He also said to close the doors so she can heal herself. He talks about it like it's a person. Interesting."

"Perform the needed tests," Hurst said evenly. "Find out if it is indeed alive." He glanced inside the box at the burned interior. "Or was."

"Yes, sir," said Hauff and with a slight nod of his head, he walked away to begin his work.

Hurst entered the blue box. As he walked toward the center console, he took in the expanse of the impossible room and felt the chill of discovery shiver down his spine. He rested his hands on a part of the console that was not burned and stared up the scorched glass column rising out of the center. He wondered how this teleporting ship worked, and how it could be used as Umbrella's latest weapon to be manufactured and sold.

He would make millions. With a brief smile, he moved past the console asking a nearby technician to tell him more about the maze of hallways and numerous doors discovered beyond the console room. Since there didn't seem to be any internal power running in the ship, none of the doors would open. But discovering their secrets was just a matter of time.

On second thought, perhaps he would make billions.

.

.  
Once again, the Doctor opened his eyes. For a moment, he imagined that waking up in a laboratory from hell was merely a dream. A quick glance around sadly confirmed that he was indeed still in the laboratory from hell. At least he was alone for the time being.

He regretted falling asleep when he did, but his body demanded the rest and finally overpowered his will to remain conscious. After all, the place Bolt had taken him was a room that held a simple MRI machine. The woman had him a bit nervous that he was in for something worse for a minute.

Since there was no stress or pain involved during the MRI scan, he relaxed a bit. Not like he had much of a choice strapped down to the table. Even though he wasn't happy about these people learning more about him than they already knew, his eyelids had fallen closed like lead weights.

Stretching his body as much as he could under the restraints, the Doctor could feel that all the flesh wounds he had suffered had all but healed. The cracked bones of his left arm and leg were also as good as new. The broken rib cage, however, required more time and more rest. He just wasn't sure he was going to have that time. The TARDIS was in pain, she needed him.

The sound of the door to the lab opening drew the Doctor out of his thoughts. He frowned slightly at the sight of Bolt. She was really starting to rub him the wrong way with her cold callousness. He smiled brightly as she approached the side of his gurney. "Allo," he said.

"I was told to change the dressings on your injuries," she said with an exaggerated sigh. "I don't see why when you're headed for the autopsy table anyway." She pulled roughly at the bandage wrapped around his right hand.

The Doctor's smile faltered slightly. Autopsy. Well, at least he knew what they planned on doing with him. Won't they be surprised if he regenerates? "Perhaps because its the nice thing to do for your patients," he said in a pleasant tone hoping to appeal to her morality. "You know, the human thing to do."

Bolt paused and glared at the Time Lord. She pursed her lips together in anger. "You are not my patient," she said as she continued removing the bandage. "You are a test subject. Nothing more."

So much for morality, the Doctor thought.

She was about to say something more, but as the last of the bandage slid off the Doctor's hand, she gasped in astonishment. "Your hand is completely healed!" She turned his hand and examined it closely.

"What can I say?" The Doctor winked at her with a smug smile. "I'm brilliant."

Without another word, Bolt dropped the Doctor's hand and walked away to a desk on the other side of the room. The Doctor could hear her calling Friedman to come to the lab at once.

After only a few moments, Friedman entered the lab and walked up to the Doctor. "Astonishing. Are you completely healed?" He asked as he examined the Doctor's hand.

The Doctor just shrugged his shoulder and maintained a cheeky grin.

"Such a quick healing factor would be invaluable to the company," Friedman said with a fair amount of pride in his voice. "Bolt, get him ready for the tissue sampling. Looks like we'll be moving forward with the testing much sooner than we anticipated."

The Doctor's cheeky grin vanished.

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To be continued.


	4. Chapter 4

Bolt wheeled the Doctor, still strapped to the gurney, into a room that would have looked like a normal hospital surgery room if it wasn't for the fact that this was the Hive. Stainless steel cabinets with clear glass doors filled with a wide assortment of drugs lined the walls above counters topped with stainless steel. Surgical instruments lay spread out ready for use on a metal tray sitting on the counter near a computer terminal.

A large light hung from the ceiling in the center of the room aimed directly onto a metal table. The stainless steel table was constructed with extensions off each side so that a human's arms could be strapped to them and hold the arms out away from the body.

The Doctor did not like the look of that table, but realized that he would have to be moved to that table and that meant one thing; Bolt would have to undo the straps that kept him secured to the gurney. Motivated by the renewed anguished cries of the TARDIS, a plan of escape formed in his mind, yet he outwardly remained still and calm.

Sure as expected, the woman began unbuckling the cuffs at his ankles. "I need to move you to the table and I don't want any trouble, understand?" She said in a sneering tone.

The Doctor answered by lifting both his eyebrows as high as they would go in a look of feign innocence. "Trouble? From me? Never." He scoffed sarcastically.

Bolt shot him a warning glance that conveyed she didn't believe him. But when his right ankle was free, the Time Lord didn't move a muscle. One by one, she unbuckled the restraints and when the last one slipped off the Doctor's wrist, she pointed to the metal table. "Go lay on the table."

Now that he was free, the Doctor moved slowly as he sat up. He clutched his still broken ribs that pulsed with continuous aches throughout his body. But he couldn't worry about that right now. He leaped off the gurney and shoved Bolt to the side. "Sorry," he said as he ran for the door. "But I've really got to be going now."

He pulled open the door and came face to face with a black-clad soldier in a mean looking full face helmet carrying an even meaner looking rifle. "Oh! Allo," the Doctor said and moved to push past the soldier.

The soldier responded by taking the butt of his rifle and shoving it home into the Time Lord's unguarded side.

The unexpected explosion of pain took the Doctor off guard. He doubled over, crying out in agony as he crumpled to the floor at the soldier's feet. Tears welled up in his eyes as he drew his knees up close to his chest hoping it would ease the excruciating pain. He was pretty sure that his partially healed ribs were completely broken once again.

"I told you I didn't want any trouble."

The Doctor glared up at Bolt through tear-blurred eyes and despised the tinge of amusement in the woman's otherwise icy voice. "Y-you..." his lower lip quivered involuntarily as he spoke, "didn't m-mention... this guy was... outside."

"And would you have cooperated if I had?" She crossed her arms and tapped a finger impatiently.

"N-nope." He flashed a defiant grin, but it was fleeting as another wave of pain coursed through him and he pulled his shaking limbs in closer.

"Drag him back in here and get him on that table." Bolt barked out a command to two men in white scrubs that had just arrived to the scene. She spun her heel and marched back into the room.

The orderlies took position at the head and feet of the Doctor. Without much care of hurting him more, the two men unfolded him rather roughly. Despite his pained whimpering, the men grabbed him under his arms and by his ankles, and carried him into the surgical room.

The Time Lord grunted as he was slammed onto the cold metal table. He struggled fruitlessly as an orderly forced his legs straight and locked his ankles into place within hard metal cuffs. The other orderly held his arms firm as the same type of metal cuff was clamped over his wrists.

Bolt leaned over the Doctor's face and held up a pair of surgical shears with a menacing smile.

"Oh, come on!" The Doctor groaned in disbelief, but couldn't peel his eyes off the shears. "You're not serious..." He truly hoped she was just messing with him, but he wasn't too sure.

She brought the shears down to his shoulder and starting at the collar, she cut down the sleeve of the hospital gown. A quick snip and the other sleeve was cut down the middle. Another snip severed the tie cord that ran underneath his back.

"I was going to simply ask you to remove this," she sat the shears down on the nearby counter, "but since you had to be difficult, I have to do this the hard way." She grab the edge of the gown and give it one good hard tug leaving the Doctor thoroughly and completely exposed.

Instantly, the Doctor felt the heat of embarrassment on his cheeks. Not that he was ashamed of his body, he just didn't like being exposed like this. No one would. "Was that really necessary?" He asked harshly.

"Yes." Bolt replied simply. She reached under the table and flipped a wide black Velcro strap across his hips, securing it on the other side. The strap mercifully provided enough coverage, but only just.

She turned toward a computer keyboard and monitor set up against the wall. Typing a few keys, she nodded in approval as the bright light illuminated the table.

The Doctor squinted his eyes under the powerfully bright light that shone down from above and he turned his head to avoid it. At a whirring sound quite recognizable as early 21st century robotics, he looked back up and frowned.

Six robotic arms unfolded, like the legs of a spider, from above the bright light. The arms moved to different positions stopping with each of their needle tips poised over the Doctor's abdomen and chest.

"Umm, what exactly are those going to do?" The Doctor asked nervously even though he suspected he already knew the answer. He stared at the large glistening needles that seemed more like spears from his point of view.

"The machine is going to take a tissue sample of each of your organs." Bolt replied nonchalantly as she typed on the keyboard. "While the computer is programmed with your internal physiology from the scans we did earlier, I really don't recommend moving. Especially when it's taking a sample of your hearts."

"What?" The Doctor lifted his head and stared at Bolt in shock. "You can't just drive needles into my hearts! You'll kill me!"

"Don't be ridiculous," she said flippantly. "I've done this to plenty of rabbits with a seventy-four percent death rate."

"I'm not a rabbit!" The Doctor shouted. His anger boiled over, and it wasn't because he might very well regenerate right here and now, but it was because of Bolt. Her utter disregard for life disgusted him to his very core. "Wait. Did you say seventy-four percent?"

The robotic arms whirred to life and with the hard accuracy of a machine, drove the needle tips mechanically into the Doctor's flesh.

He threw back his head and screamed.

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CEO Carl Hurst grew impatient.

Three teams of men with blow-torches worked tirelessly at cutting through the doors inside the impossible ship and so far, nothing of any use had been found. One room was filled with the most ridiculous clothes Hurst had ever seen. Three levels packed full with everything from frock coats to unnecessarily long scarves.

Another room seemed to be nothing more than a kitchen stocked with every type of banana product that any food company had ever produced, including a refrigerator full of fresh bananas and banana pudding. The only interesting items found in the kitchen were several food boxes written in a language that Hurst had never seen. He'd sent those to be analyzed.

Hurst stood behind a pair of men cutting through yet another door. He wasn't interested in coats and banana's. He wanted to find the weapons. Surely if that human-looking creature had been sent here to attack the Hive, there would be weapons, but so far that only thing that came close to resembling a weapon was a small metal cylindrical object they'd found on the floor where the man was found. All it seemed to do was emit a squealing noise and flash a blue light when its button was pushed. Still, it was being tested and Hurst awaited the results.

Finally, the chunk of metal cut out of the door fell away and Hurst anxiously entered the room. He stared at the large swimming pool set in polished dark marble and surrounded by tall, decorated columns giving the room an ancient Roman feel. "A swimming pool?" He clenched his fists in frustration. "A fucking swimming pool?!"

"Mr. Hurst, sir?"

"What?!" The CEO snarled as he spun on his heel and glared at Hauff, who visibly jumped at Hurst's outburst.

"I finished analyzing that food," Huaff said and held out a clipboard with several papers secured under its clip. "It contains only two known elements. The rest of it... well we don't know what it is."

Hurst snatched the clipboard out of Hauff's hands and flipped through the report. "What do you think it is?" He looked up and fixed his steady gaze on the other man.

"Considering that the food is completely unknown on earth, I would say it was extraterrestrial."

"Alien." Hurst nodded once and a smile slowly grew across his face. "Well. That makes this interesting, doesn't it?"

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Images flashed in the Doctor's mind. Horrifying images. Men with welding torches carelessly cutting through every door they could find. Pieces of the console meticulously stripped away. Parts from under the grated floor ripped out and tossed aside. The TARDIS was slowly being taken apart. The agony she felt resonated through his torment. And just as surely as he could sense her pain, she could sense his.

The Doctor felt each cold steel needle puncture his skin and slide through his flesh straight into the organs the robotic arms were programmed to penetrate. He shuddered despite himself and the warning Bolt had given him about moving. His eyes rolled up into his skull. The chill of the healing coma crept into every inch of his being.

The Doctor was beginning to lose consciousness.

The robotic arms simultaneously pulled the needles up and out, and two arms rotated around until they were poised above the Time Lord's hearts.

Bolt reached over her 'test subject' and wrapped her fingers around the base of the needle in the robotic arm. Giving the fastener a twist, she pulled the needle out and replaced it with a fresh, clean one. She repeated those steps for the second robot arm. When she was finished, she looked down at the Doctor. "I'm going to start with your right heart." Her tone cool and even. "If it doesn't stop beating, then I will move on to the left one."

The Doctor's head lolled over to face Bolt. "Don't... do this," he said barely above a whisper as he gazed at her with half-closed eyes. "Y-you have one... chance..."

"No I don't," Bolt said evenly. "If the sample isn't taken properly, I can always try again as many times as I need too." She spun on her heel and returned to the computer desk. With the tap of a key on the keyboard, the robot arm shoved the needle into the Doctor's chest.

Like being stabbed with a knife, the metal needle drove right into his heart with cold accuracy. The Doctor crunched his eyes closed as his heart stopped beating and he moaned from the strain of only one beating heart. The needle withdrew as calculating as it had plunged in. He drew in a ragged breath and exhaled a swirl of golden light.

"What was that?" Bolt exclaimed and was instantly at the Doctor's side. She held the palm of her hand over his slightly open mouth, but felt nothing more than the warmth of his weak breath. "Hey!" She grabbed him by the shoulder and shook. "Answer me! What was that light?"

The Doctor didn't answer Bolt, save for a slight moan and a few words mumbled unintelligibly. He didn't realize that he'd exhaled regenerative energy and he really wished it hadn't. Perhaps with all the injuries he'd suffered, the needle stabbing his heart activated the energy enough to heal. He wasn't dead yet, however, and that meant he wasn't going to fully regenerate.

"Terrific," Bolt said with a sigh when it became apparent that the Doctor was not going to answer. She returned the computer desk and pressed a button on the intercom panel on the nearby wall. "Doctor Brown. Come down to lab 51 immediately and bring Doctor Blue with you."

"I'll be there right away."

She pulled the keyboard closer and began to type a report of her latest findings.

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To be continued.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Thank you for the favs, follows and reviews. I really appreciate it!**

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Alice Parks, or at least that's what people believed her name to be, sat at her desk in her private office in front of a wall of monitors. As Head of Security for the Hive, she could see down every hallway and into every room in the facility through those monitors. Sometimes, she felt like an insect with too many eyes.

Quietly, she stared at one monitor in particular that displayed the interior of one Laboratory 51. The lab where they had taken the strange intruder that appeared out of thin air in a blue box. She watched as the robotic arms drove those too large needles repeatedly and mercilessly into the man's bare chest.

Alice did not like the look etched in his face. The torture and the agony being dealt to this person who made the mistake of crashing here was almost unbearable for her despite the strange circumstances of his sudden appearance here.

With a tap of a key on her computer keyboard, one of the monitors changed its display to show inside Laboratory 39 where the blue box was being examined. She watched as scientists and technicians worked like ants carting items out of the blue box. She knew they were taking that unusual machine apart, piece by piece.

The lights behind the police box signs had remained steadily lit until now. They flickered. At first the flickering seemed random, but Alice caught on to a pattern no one else seemed to notice. "Morse code," she whispered. She grabbed a pen and a pad of paper from a desk drawer and wrote down the letters.

"H, e, l, p, m, e. Help me." Alice mumbled the words as she stared at the blue box in disbelief.

She pursed her lips tightly together. She hated what was happening down here, not just to the stranger, but everything. She hated Umbrella most of all and she knew she wasn't the only one. Slamming her fist on her desk in frustration, she didn't care if the man was an alien or not, no one deserved that kind of torment and she wanted it to end. But there wasn't anything she could do about it.

Or was there?

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The Doctor was barely conscious, but he felt that he was being moved. Back onto the gurney. Fabric laid across his bare body. Straps held him still. That machine had nearly killed him, and that made him angry. He wasn't ready to go yet. Still so much to see, so much to do and he sure as hell wasn't going down in this place.

He forced an eye open, but only slightly, just enough to see. He was being taken back to the lab he first awoke in... lab 42. With all this moving around between laboratories, he was able to mentally construct a map of everywhere he had seen so far. Fortunately, he knew exactly where the TARDIS was being kept and that knowledge fueled his desire to run to her, to save her.

The door to lab 42 swished open and the bald man pushing the gurney stopped in the middle of the room. "Thank you, Doctor Brown," Doctor Bolt said as she pulled around a wheeled stand used to hang IV bags next to the gurney.

Another man with short dark hair wearing the same lab coat uniform as all the other scientists, stepped up to the stand carrying an IV bag filled with a clear liquid as Brown walked away to the other side of the lab. He hung a bag on the stand and connected the end of the long clear tube to a hypodermic needle. He flicked the needle until the liquid dripped out then he drove the needle into the Doctor's arm. "He's very cold," the man said.

"Yes he is, Blue," Bolt said. "He had a body temperature of sixty-one degrees, but it has dropped to fifty-four degrees since the sampler."

The Time Lord's eyes flew open and he lifted his head as he drew in a sharp breath. That liquid that pumped into his veins wasn't saline this time.

The sudden movement startled Blue and he jumped back a step. "Shit!" He took a deep breath. "You'd think I'd get used to that by now."

"N-no drugs! T-take it... out!" The Doctor could barely manage the words through his shaking lower lip. His head fell back to the gurney. The healing coma was working to shut down his systems so he can heal, but the morphine that flowed into his bloodstream served to disrupt that natural process.

"You'd think." Bolt commented to Blue, completely ignoring the Doctor's delirious pleas. She glanced at the temperature read out based on a sensor taped to her subject's chest. "Hm. His body temperature has dropped another six degrees... how is he still alive?"

"I'm sure we'll find that out once the results from the tissue samples are analyzed," Blue said. He looked down at the man dozing into a morphine-induced sleep and felt a bit of pity. After all, he was used to experimenting on animals. Never a human. Still, Blue knew that the company didn't have a policy against human testing, voluntary or not, and he wasn't someone to do anything to stop the plump paychecks from coming his way.

For the Doctor, his cells knitted themselves back together, the way they were meant to. But the process was slowed by the morphine. He could sense every single molecule of his being moving in slow motion, mending and knitting back together. Each beat of his hearts resounded through his head. He felt like he was floating, drifting in the darkness, sifting through the warped images that flashed in his mind.

The look on Rose's face when he left her on that beach. The hurt he caused Martha and her family during the year that never was. The loss of his best friend when he was forced to erase Donna's memories of him. And the TARDIS. The sight of her with her doors wide open, her console blackened and burned, tore through his core. The signs were lit. The signs were still lit showing that she wasn't lost to him. Not Yet. No. He could see her. He could sense her struggling to pull out of her own darkness. He reached out his hand...

Bolt had instructed Doctor Blue to insert several more hypodermic needles into the Doctor along with several sensor nodes, so reactions to various injected drugs could be tested. He had just inserted the second needle into the Time Lord's side when Blue happened to glance at the subject's face.

He watched a single tear fall down the Doctor's cheek.

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In the largest office of the Hive on the top floor, Carl Hurst settled behind his desk and impatiently waved his assistant out. He was not interested in coffee or pastries, he was interested in the information the reports spread out before him had to offer.

He picked up one such report regarding the metal cylindrical object and learned that it emitted a form of sonic wave that physically manipulated certain objects. A technology not yet known. So far, the object could lock or unlock any of the doors the technicians tested it on within the facility. Quite dangerous for the Corporation in the wrong hands.

This led Hurst to believe that perhaps the strange intruder was in fact sent to infiltrate the Hive. Perhaps to steal information. Still, such a device would be of high interest in the markets Umbrella catered too. Making a note to have the technicians take apart the device and learn how it works, he set the report file to the side.

The next file contained the findings from Friedman and Bolt. Hurst skimmed through the physiology details of the intruder to get to the end result. He wasn't interested in knowing that the man called himself the Doctor, so he jumped to the punch line. The man that appeared out of thin air in the burning blue box was not human, but an extraterrestrial. And, based on the alien's injuries and the wreckage inside the blue box, this was a crash landing, not an invasion.

Hauff's report of his analysis of the impossible ship's systems indicated the possible presence of a life form. He also discovered an immense power source and was currently working on accessing it. To date, no weapons cache whatsoever have been discovered within the ship. However, there were still numerous doors to crack open and Hauff's teams have been working non-stop.

One point Hauff noted in his report was that the ship did seem to be repairing itself, albeit rather slowly. Hauff had apparently noticed that the previously scorched glass column in the center of the console was now polished and clean. A review of the surveillance cameras confirmed that the column and part of the console had indeed repaired itself.

Hurst found that information particularly fascinating. A teleporting, self-repairing, alien ship was an incredibly valuable asset for the company. Once the ship was completely reverse engineered, it could be mass produced and sold to warring countries around the world. Imagine such a ship suddenly appearing in the battlefield and unleashing a swarm of genetically mutated soldiers courtesy the Umbrella Corporation.

Hurst leaned back in his plush chair and glanced over the details once again. The information was compelling and the reason for the man's presence conflicted. His eyes caught on a particular detail of a report and he focused in, letting his thoughts plot and scheme.

The alien had already healed of most of his injuries, including the fractured arm and leg. Such a feat would have taken a human months to accomplish and yet this creature did it in less than twenty-four hours. An accelerated healing factor may be just what was needed to take the G-virus to the next level.

Hurst picked up the phone. "Get me Doctor Friedman." He spoke into the receiver with ruff authority and waited for the response. "This is Carl Hurst. I want you to get as much information as possible out of the alien and then I want you to use the alien in the Tyrant project. Do whatever it takes to reach the desired result. I expect a report in twelve hours."

He dropped the receiver back into its cradle. There was nothing left to do now, but wait.

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Doctor Friedman opened the door to Laboratory 42 and stepped inside. Taking a quick glance around he noticed that Bolt was not in the lab. However, Brown and Blue stood beside the unconscious alien glancing at monitors and scrawling notes on a tablet. He stood at the foot of the gurney and stared at the alien who looked so incredibly human.

"Friedman," Blue said acknowledging the older man's presence with a slight nod.

"What are you monitoring?" Friedman asked.

"We injected him with morphine and the results are interesting," Brown answered. "His body is metabolizing the drug and isolating it in his main respiratory system."

"For what purpose?" Friedman sounded genuinely fascinated.

"We're not sure..." Brown started to say but paused when the Doctor opened his mouth and exhaled a thick white smoke that quickly dissipated in the air.

"He just exhaled all the morphine in his body," said Blue in a tone of disbelief.

Friedman nodded slowly with a smile forming on his lips. Perfect, he thought.

The Doctor's eyes flew open and he lifted his head so quickly, he startled Blue again. Even Brown took a step back. "This is your one chance," the Doctor said with raw anger as he looked at each of the humans surrounding him. "Let me go or I promise you, you will regret it."

"Don't be ridiculous," Friedman said with a small chuckle. "You are now property of the Umbrella Corporation, alien." He accentuated the last word to make the point that he wasn't about to let something as significant as an extraterrestrial just get up and walk out. "I want him tagged." While Friedman held his cold gaze on the Doctor, he clearly spoke to the scientists on either side of him.

"I'll take care of it," Brown said and immediately left the laboratory.

"Listen to me, Friedman," said the Doctor with a dangerous look in his eye. "You are making a mistake. I don't give second chances."

Still not intimidated by the Time Lord's threats, Friedman shook his head. "You're just a skinny little alien all tied up to a gurney. Your petty threats are meaningless. You're not going anywhere."

"When I tear this place down to the ground," the Doctor spoke in the low growl of anger, "I'll make sure you're buried underneath it!"

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To be continued.


	6. Chapter 6

The Doctor was so infuriated, he wanted to throw something just to watch it shatter into a million peices. Instead, his mind raced plotting exactly how he was going to keep his promise to Friedman. He wanted that man, and everyone responsible for this laboratory of horrors, to spend the rest of their lives where they belonged, behind bars.

Brown promptly returned to the laboratory with a chrome, gun-like device in his hand. He placed a firm grip on the Doctor's forehead and held the device up to the Doctor's ear.

The Doctor squinted as the light reflecting off the polished chrome clamp-gun flashed in his eye. The clamp-gun made a snap sound amplified by being right next to his head. He inhaled sharply as a small metal tag was secured into the cartilage of the top of his right ear.

He focused on ignoring the burning, throbbing pain around the involuntary piercing and he didn't want to let his anger get the best of him. He needed a distraction. "So, how does it look on me?" The Time Lord forced a smile. "I've never thought about having my ears pierced, but hey, never too old for something new, right?"

Brown paused and stared at the Doctor a moment, then shook his head and walked away to the other end of the room to report the tagging to Bolt.

"Oh, come on!" The Doctor lifted his head and shouted after Brown. "Can you at least bring me a mirror so I can check it out?" When he got the expected answer of silence from the two humans, he rested his head and stared up at the stainless ceiling.

All he needed to escape was for the restraints to be loosened enough that he could work a hand free. Running, his favorite pastime that he was very good at, would be easy now that he was completely healed. However, he was strapped down tight to the gurney thanks to his first escape attempt. So, until he was released from the gurney, he wasn't going anywhere.

In the meantime, he let his ever clever mind conceive a plan.

Once he was on his feet, the first challenge would be opening the doors. Each one that he'd seen so far was electronically locked requiring a swipe of a card or a numerical code. Easily bypassed if he had the sonic. He was sure that the screwdriver was being examined somewhere in the facility, but he had no idea where. In his brief travels through the facility, he had yet to see it in a laboratory.

There were other options. He could take one of the scientists hostage and force him or her to open the doors, but that wasn't really his style. No. He'll just swipe a keycard. Quick. Simple. No one gets hurt. Besides, a little thievery certainly wasn't against his moral code.

From there it was just a matter of getting to the TARDIS. He wondered how many of those black-clad soldiers there were. Probably enough, he gathered. Perhaps he would take a minute to access a computer. He was, after all, curious about the Umbrella Corporation and wondered what this facility was for other than torturing innocent animals and aliens.

The laboratory door swished open distracting the Doctor from his thoughts. He glared at Friedman that just entered the lab and headed directly for him.

"Hello again," Friedman said with a fake smile as he pulled a stool over and sat down. He reached into his lab coat and produced small audio recorder. "I want to ask some questions and I expect some answers, understood?"

The Doctor watched the man's every move with quick, detail-snatching glances. "Ah, Q and A! My favorite game." He didn't hide the sarcasm in his voice. "Why don't I start? Wait. That question doesn't count. Let me try again. What happens when a frog parks in a no parking space?"

"What?" Friedman looked confused. Obviously, the question caught him off guard.

"He gets toad," the Doctor said with a chuckle and noted just how easily the other man could be shaken from focus.

Friedman did not look impressed. He reached into the pocket of his lab coat and pulled out a capped syringe filled with a sickening brown liquid. Tugging the cap from the needle, he held up the syringe and injected it into the port of an IV bag. Immediately, the liquid flowed through the tube and into the Doctor's viens.

"Can't take a joke, I see. What is that?" the Doctor asked as he sniffed the air to hide his aggravation. He was already sick of being injected with foreign substances.

"Amobarbital," Friedman said casually. "I have orders to make you talk. We want to know all about you, your little silver weapon and your ship."

"Sorry, Friedman," the Doctor said rather smugly. "I'm not going to tell you anything you don't already know." Even as he spoke those words, he felt a wave of drowsiness, a side effect of the truth drug, wash over him like a gentle ocean breeze. Despite his bragging words, he knew he was in trouble.

"We'll see about that." Friedman smiled and checked his watch. "Doctor Brown, mark the time of truth serum injection at 4:43pm."

Bolt walked up beside Friedman and looked down at the subject. "Do you think the drug is going to work? It took four minutes for him to expel the morphine."

"Yes, but the morphine affected him normally until then. I'll continue to inject Amobarbital as many times as I need to get answers out of him."

Bolt nodded and pulled a small recorder from her pocket. Pressing the record button, she crossed her arms as she watched the Doctor for further signs of the truth drug taking hold. She didn't have to wait long.

The drowsiness thickened and the Doctor's eyelids grew heavier. Still, he forced his eyes to stay open, even if his eyelids were only half open. The strong beating of his hearts slowed and relaxed as if he were asleep already and all at once, he felt incredibly weak. He imagined climbing unsteadily to his feet only to collapse in heap on the floor under the weight of the weakness he felt.

"Doctor?" Friedman's voice sounded strong and steady in the haze that clouded the Doctor's mind.

"Yes?" The Time Lord answered sluggishly. He wondered if he really spoke or if he just imagined that he spoke.

"What is your name?"

"The... Doctor."

"I mean, your real name?"

Never had the Doctor felt this way. He heard the questions resound so clearly in his head, he felt compelled to respond. The walls were being torn down and if he didn't answer the questions, he would be lost forever, or at least that's what he believed in the drug-induced fog. "I... don't know." The words slurred from the Doctor's lips.

"Why don't you know you're name?"

"Had to... leave it in the Medusha Cast... cade. Fergotten by... everyone."

Friedman and Bolt exchanged glances. Neither had any idea what that could possibly mean. However, it was clear that the Doctor was not able to answer the question, so Friedman continued. "What is your species called?"

"Time... Lord." The Doctor broke out into a sweat. He felt as though he were on fire. Suddenly, he was sure he was on fire. "Nonononono!" He cried out and struggled against the restraints. "I'm on fire! Help me!" The hallucinations of the truth serum warped his senses and he fought to keep it together.

"Doctor, you are not on fire," Friedman said evenly. "You just have a fever."

"A... f-fever?" His voice sounded weak and feeble, and he resented it.

"Yes, just a fever. You'll be okay." Friedman's voice was like an anchor in the clouded confusion that was the Doctor's mind. "Where are you from?" Friedman continued the questioning.

"Gal... li... frey." For once in his long life, the Doctor wished he could stop talking. He didn't want to tell these monstrous humans anything, but the truth drug forced his mouth to say the words he so desperately wanted to keep secret.

"Where is that?"

"Con... shell... ation erf Kasss... ter... borous."

"I'm assuming Gallifrey is a planet somewhere out there in a place called Kasterborous," Friedman said to Bolt. She shrugged her shoulder, while the Doctor slowly nodded his head.

"Tell me about your ship, Doctor," Friedman said evenly and firmly to maintain the commanding control he knew his voice had over the drugged alien.

The Doctor sank deeper and deeper into the darkness of his mind as if he were drowning in quicksand. One part of him was acutely aware of what was happening to him. The truth drug. The questions. His answers. The other part was powerless to stop from speaking.

As soon as the Time Lord immune system quarantined the truth serum and converted it to a gas that he was all too happy to exhale, Friedman injected another dose and continued the questioning.

By the time Friedman was finished, vital information about the Doctor, the sonic screwdriver and the TARDIS now rested in the hands of the Umbrella Corporation. As the Time Lord exhaled the last of the truth serum, Friedman smiled a smug grin. "Thank you, Time Lord," he said. "You have been very helpful. I can't wait to see you regenerate. That sounds fascinating."

"Even if I do," the Doctor said with a sneer. After he exhaled the drug, his mind was as clear and sharp as ever. "I'll still put an end to all of this."

"We'll see about that. In the meantime, you should be glad to know that you are no longer slated for the autopsy table." Friedman stood and tucked his tablet under his arm. "Instead, I'll be using you in my experiments with the G-virus."

"Are you sure you want to do that, Friedman?" Bolt raised her eyebrow. "We're still waiting for the tissue results."

"I've received orders to use the alien in the Tyrant project," Friedman said cooly and maintained his gaze on his new test subject. "I'll wait for the test results. It might prove interesting for predicting the mutation."

"Tyrant project? G-virus?" The Doctor frowned, not liking the sound of either one, but he was genuinely curious at the same time. "I don't suppose you're going to tell me anything about it?"

"You'll find out soon enough, Doctor," Friedman said with a smile.

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Alice leaned back in her desk chair and covered her mouth with her hand as she stared at the monitor that streamed the camera feed in Laboratory 42. She was working on a plan to help the seemingly friendly alien escape, but she thought she would have more time to set her plan in motion. Now that she knew the Doctor was slated for the Tyrant Project, she had to trigger her plan much sooner than expected.

She picked up a backpack from the floor and double checked its contents. A pair of black pants, a black pullover shirt, a pair of black shoes, a black cap and a gas mask. The standard issue uniform of the Hive security personnel and the perfect way to disguise the Doctor long enough to get him out of the facility.

"_I have to check on one of my other experiments_." Friedman's voice cracked through the security camera's microphone. "_Bolt, come with me_."

Alice glanced at the monitor displaying the emptying interior of the lab. She watched as Blue checked over the restraints on the alien and then he, too, left the lab. This was it. The chance she needed.

Slinging the backpack over her shoulder, Alice walked out of her office and down the hall with a steady pace and a sense of purpose. She wanted to hurry, but she couldn't raise any suspicion. So, she walked as fast as she safely could until she reached the lab.

As she walked past the window toward the door, she could see the Doctor strapped to the gurney and the lab was empty of scientists. She closed her eyes and exhaled in relief of her luck. Without hesitation, she entered the lab and didn't stop until she was next to the Doctor.

He turned his head and regarded her with suspicion as he visually absorbed every detail of this new face.

Alice caught the Doctor's expression and couldn't blame the man for being suspicious after what he's experienced in this hell hole already. "Doctor," she said in a quiet voice as she gently took his hand in hers. "I'm Alice and I'm here to help you."

The Doctor lifted his head and a smile danced across his features as he gazed upon Alice with a renewed sense of hope in the human race. "Allo," he said in a whispered cheery voice as Alice worked at unbuckling a wrist cuff. "Nice to meet you, Alice."

"I've been watching through the cameras," Alice said. "The G-virus will mutate you. Turn you into a monster. I just can't let them do this anymore. It has to stop."

"Thank you." The Doctor slipped his hand out of the cuff and paused at the sound of the lab door opening.

"What's going on here?" The harsh voice belonged to none other than Friedman.

Alice froze and stared at the Doctor as he discreetly slipped his hand back into the restraint. He looked in her eyes and shook his head slightly. She understood what he was doing, he was saving her at his own expense.

She buckled the cuff back around the Doctor's wrist and turned around to face Friedman. "I'm readjusting the restraints on the prisoner," she said evenly. "I don't want another escape attempt especially if he's a part of the Tyrant Project."

Friedman's stance tensed, but he forced a small smile. "Of course, Security Chief Parks," he said as he walked past her toward the computer terminal. "Is there anything else?"

Alice shook her and paused a moment when Brown turned his back to her. She caught the Doctor's eyes and mouthed the words, I'm sorry. She expected to see anger or disappointment in his kind brown eyes, but instead she caught his wink and the tiny smile in the corner of his mouth.

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To be continued.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Now that the holidays are over, I have time to finish this story. Thanks for your patience and here is chapter seven!**

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Hauff pushed down on the handle of the pry bar and finally freed the glass panel from the top of the console. Hefting the heavy glass up, he carefully laid the glass on the floor a good distance away from where he worked. He took care not break it in the hopes of getting the alien to tell him what the strange circles etched the glass meant.

Now he had open access to the guts of the console. With a pleased grin, he began tracing wires and cables from dials and levers, marking each one in a tedious effort of reverse engineering the ship. He hoped to find something recognizable as a data cable he could tap into with his computer, but so far, no such luck.

Suddenly, Hauff heard someone whisper. A drifting voice so faint, he wasn't sure if he'd heard at all. Then, he felt as though someone was standing right behind him. He whipped his head around and stared about the empty console room. Wide eyed and alert, he listened to the faint sounds of his men working in the depths of the ship.

Assuming that was what he'd heard, he continued ripping wires loose from their ties.

Another moment passed and he heard the whisper again. Only this time it was louder and definitely feminine. He yanked the pry bar out from the console and spun around. "Who's there?" He tried not to sound startled, but he knew he failed. Still, he held the pry bar ready to use as a weapon on a moment's notice.

The console room was empty and bare save for the halogen lamps and Umbrella's equipment.

Hauff drew in a deep breath and closed his eyes. He had been working long hours and barely had a chance to sleep more than a few minutes at a time ever since the alien crashed in the Hive. His mind must be playing tricks on him, he reasoned and opened his eyes.

With one last glance about the silent room, Hauff turned his attention back to the wiring inside the control console. Finally, he found a wire that seemed to be exactly what he was looking. Using a pair wire cutters, he snipped the wire and stripped back the protective casing to expose the raw wire inside.

He thought he heard an ethereal gasp from somewhere behind him, but he ignored the sound and the feeling that he was not alone. Hauff quickly fastened a connector at the end of the wire and plugged it into his computer. The program he wrote to hack through the systems ran its course and yielded... nothing.

"Son of a bitch!" Hauff slammed his fist on the console out of frustration. If he didn't produce viable results for Mr. Hurst, he would be terminated. Not wanting to be murdered, or worse, used as a test subject, Hauff's mind raced through his options.

The easiest of course would be getting the alien in there to teach him how to operate the ship, but that didn't seem likely to happen. The alien was quite desperate to return the ship and that meant that the Doctor wasn't going to be allowed anywhere near it.

Suddenly, Hauff felt overwhelmed by a strong sense of anguish. Not his own anguish, but someone else's. The loud pop startled him and he stared in astonishment at the sparks that spit out of his computer where the ship's wire was plugged in. He dropped the computer on the floor and watched it shatter into pieces.

The glass tubes inside the glass column rose and fell accompanied by a strange noise that too closely resembled a person's labored breath.

Hauff stepped back and stared at the glass column with wide eyes as the hair on the back of his neck rose on end. He couldn't help but feel that someone was in pain. Someone was in terrible anguish and desperately cried out for help.

It was maddening.

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Mr. Hurst leaned back in the overstuffed chair behind his desk. He smiled as he stared out the view screen windows of the Hive that so believably made it seem that he was on the top floor of an office building, not a half mile underground.

"This is all very fascinating, Carl," said a man that sat on the other side of Hurst's desk. He tossed a file labeled 'alien' back onto the desk near other files labeled 'sonic device' and 'police box'. "When will I see results of the G-virus in the alien?"

Hurst turned around and faced his superior. "Tomorrow," he said. "The alien is scheduled to be injected with the G-virus this afternoon. Everything is going smoothly."

"I'm sure you think so," the man in the dark suit said as he formed a steeple with his fingers. "You do know why I'm here, don't you?"

Hurst nodded once and offered a polite smile even though he was mildly annoyed that he couldn't see the other man's eyes through the dark sunglasses the man wore. "Yes, Mr. Wesker. I do."

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"Bolt has the tissue test results and she's analyzing them now." Friedman commented nonchalantly as he thumbed through a book of papers clipped to a clipboard. "I'm rather anxious to learn what she finds."

The Doctor didn't react to the man's strange attempt at conversation with him. Instead, he waited for the right moment to make his move. Clever girl that Alice, he thought. Thanks to her brave efforts, he would be able to slip his hand out of the restraint cuff Alice left loose and escape.

Suddenly, he felt a wave of psychic pain coming from his oldest friend. The TARDIS was in trouble and she called out to him to save her.

Friedman was the only one in the lab and the Doctor wanted to wait until the man left again. While he did prefer that Friedman wasn't there, the sense of urgency pushed him into action and he had the feeling that he wasn't going to get another chance before this lab was filled with people again.

He felt like a cat ready to pounce on an unsuspecting mouse. As soon as Friedman turned away and walked to other side of the room, the Doctor slipped his wrist out of the loosened cuff and quickly unbuckled his other wrist. He sat up, cringing at the rustling noise of the paper-like cloth that barely covered his otherwise bare body. Still, he grabbed a hold of the needles in his arm and, holding his breath, yanked them out. Without any further hesitation, he pulled out the needles buried in his legs and removed the ankles cuffs.

Friedman heard the rustling sound of the fabric and the faint squeak of the gurney. He turned his head to snap at the Time Lord for making so much noise. Instead, his eyes widened as he froze at the sight of the alien, standing tall and proud despite the messy hair and angry expression.

For a moment, neither moved a muscle. Then, Friedman's eyes darted to a scalpel lying on a tray just out of arm's reach and that's when the Doctor took action. "Don't!" He warned as he bolted toward the man. "I'm warning you."

Friedman jumped and took a step back, pressing against the counter as he held his arms to his side. A perfect example of his cowardice.

The Doctor stood inches away from the twisted scientist and stared down at the man with a hard look. When he lifted his hand, he couldn't help but smirk when Friedman flinched. "Give me your coat." The Time Lord spoke evenly with anger tracing in his voice.

Friedman immediately shrugged off his lab coat and handed it to the alien. As the Doctor slipped into the coat, Friedman dared to speak. "You don't think you're going to escape, do you?"

"Yep," the Doctor said confidently as he pulled the keycard badge out of the lab coat pocket and held it up. "Don't worry. I'll be coming back with some friends to shut this place down." Without waiting for Friedman to reply, the Time Lord spun on his heel and rushed for the door.

Once out in the hall, he bolted toward the lab where the TARDIS was being systematically taken apart. As he passed one lab, he spied his sonic screwdriver sitting inside a small glass box in the middle of the room. He skidded to a halt.

There is no time for this, the Doctor thought as he contemplated snatching up his favorite and extremely handy tool. Still, while there were strange looks from other scientists as he ran down the hall, no one tried to stop him. There was no sign of the black clad, well armed security personnel and so far, not even Friedman had not given chase.

He was about to swipe the keycard on the lab door when an alarm echoed through the halls. That settled that. The Doctor ran toward his beloved ship hoping he hadn't wasted too many of those precious seconds he needed to escape.

Rounding the corner, he nearly slammed into the door of Laboratory 51 and quickly swiped the keycard through the slot. The door seemed to take an impossible amount of time opening, even though, it opened quite normally. He jumped into the lab. He could hear the all too familiar sound of boots stomping on tiled floor. "Come on, come on!" He shouted at the door as it slid closed.

Without the sonic screwdriver, he couldn't lock the lab door. But that didn't matter, the TARDIS was right there. The Doctor spun on his heel and stopped still. He swallowed in horror as his eyes drifted over the contents of the lab.

Chunks of blasted coral beam lay on the floor. Recognizable pieces of the console rested scattered across the counters along with long lengths of cable and wire ripped out of his ship. He even noticed a pile of his clothing from the Wardrobe room and food from his kitchen on one end of the counter.

Every piece they had gutted out of the TARDIS fueled the Doctor's fury. A fury that threatened to overwhelm the urgent sense of escape. A pang of anguish from the time ship snapped the Doctor out of his rage. He bolted into the time ship just as the security team opened the lab door.

The Time Lord unplugged the cables that ran through the blue doors and tossed the ends out.

"Stop right there!" One of the gun toting guards shouted as the rest of the team filtered in and took position with weapons aimed at the escaping alien.

The Doctor tossed a cheeky wink accompanied by an equally cheeky grin and slammed the TARDIS doors shut. Breathing a sigh of relief that he'd actually made it, he wiped a bead of sweat from his brow as he turned to face the console.

He didn't see Hauff with the pry bar until it was too late.

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To be continued.


	8. Chapter 8

What the hell happened?

One minute the Doctor was standing, and the next he was flat on his back on the TARDIS floor. He pondered this as he scrunched his eyes closed to ease the throbbing ache pulsing through his skull. He gently touched the swelling wound on the side of his head and winced at the feel of the sticky moist gash.

At least he didn't lose consciousness this time.

"I said don't move." The voice that loomed over the Doctor sounded threatening with utter sincerity.

A moment of confusion, a feeling he really didn't like at all, held the Doctor frozen in place. Someone had spoken to him and he didn't hear it. He must have been hit harder than he thought. He lifted his head to see the who was talking to him, but all he could see was a shadowy figure darkened by the near pitch blackness of the console room. "W-who... are you?" The Time Lord struggled to speak through the fog that clouded his mind.

The silhouetted man loomed over the Doctor and the Time Lord's eyes lingered on the pry bar in the man's white-knuckled grip. "Eric Hauff," the man said. "So glad you could drop in, alien."

As threatening as he sounded, Hauff honestly couldn't believe his luck when the alien suddenly appeared at the door of the ship. He knew the alien was trying to escape, but as long as he could get the information he needed, he really didn't care. "Get up!" He ordered and raised the pry bar enough to make it clear he should be obeyed. He would have preferred his pistol currently in his tool box, but the pry bar would do.

The Doctor instinctively raised his arm to block the threatened blow. "Oi! You've just hit me across the head," his anger cut through the pain and cleared his mind, "I'm not even sure I can sit up straight!" He needed to disarm this man either by force or by his favorite method, with words.

He drew in a calming breath. "Would you be so kind as to give me a moment? Oh and by the way, I'm the Doctor." He offered a small smile and hoped that by the simple act of saying his name, the man would no longer see him as an 'alien thing' but rather as a person.

Hauff's frown deepened. "I don't care who you are!" He grabbed the Time Lord by the arm and yanked the Doctor up. He shoved the staggering alien toward the center console. "You're going to show me how this ship works."

So much for words, the Doctor thought. What is wrong with these humans? "I can barely see!" A statement that wasn't entirely true. While the console room was quite dark since he unplugged the halogen lights, there was a dim glow from the lights embedded in the TARDIS walls. Just enough for his alien eyes to see by.

From outside the TARDIS doors, the security response team opened fire for a moment only to realize that the bullets had very little effect on the apparent wooden blue box.

The Doctor somehow prevented himself from collapsing to the floor again and caught Hauff's worried glance toward the door. "Oh, don't worry about that," he said proudly. "Nothing can break those doors once their closed."

"Is that so?" Hauff struggled to hide his continuing amazement of the time ship. He clicked on a flashlight and shined the beam on his alien prisoner.

"Yep," the Doctor said with a grin and squinted in the light. His grin quickly turned into a scowl. "But I'm not going to show you how to fly her." He gazed at the other man defiantly as he steadied himself on a coral support beam.

Her. Hauff blinked, briefly caught off guard by such a simple word. The presence he'd been feeling felt feminine somehow, but to hear the alien refer to the ship as 'her' suddenly made everything click into place. Now this scruffy, skinny alien refused to tell him what he wanted to know. It infuriated him. "I'll just beat it out of you then!" He raised the pry bar and lunged toward the alien.

The Doctor expected aggression from the man, but the ferocity took him slightly by surprise. Slightly. He grabbed Hauff's arm that held the pry bar and struggled to stop that arm from bringing the weapon down on him. He wrapped his fingers around the Hauff's other wrist and tried to wrestle the man to the ground.

For a moment, the two men, human and Time Lord, stood locked in a stalemate of equal force. But one had to give way and unfortunately, it was the Doctor. In his weakened state, he just couldn't overpower the other man. Instead, he tilted to the side and swung Hauff's arm around in an effort to force the pry bar out of the man's hand.

Hauff, in the meantime, managed to free his other hand and slammed the flashlight into the Doctor's jaw. For a moment, the beam of light flickered threatening to submerge them both in darkness, but it held steady.

The blow immediately knocked the Doctor down to his hands and knees. He coughed and spat blood onto the floor of his precious time machine. With a sneer, the Time Lord drew up his knee to climb to his feet, but another sudden intense pain rocked through his side like fire and he cried out as he collapsed back to the floor.

Hauff raised the pry bar again just in case the alien still had some fight left. When it became apparent that the whimpering thing was going to stay down, he lowered the pry bar. Now knowing that he would not be interrupted from outside the ship, he grabbed the alien by the wrist.

The Doctor tried to pull his wrist free from the man's grip, but he was just too hurt and weak. Now he was being dragged to the center console where Hauff was viciously intent on squeezing the secrets of the TARDIS out of him. Never had the Doctor felt so helpless... and afraid.

Once at the console, Hauff unceremoniously dropped the Doctor's arm and didn't pay much mind when the arm landed on the grating with a thud. Instead, he nudged the alien with the tip of his boot. "Get up, alien!" He spit between his teeth. Another wave of anxiety washed over him. He was so close to learning the secrets of this ship, of... her, he was quickly losing his patience.

Slowly, the Doctor rolled over to his side and eventually raised up to a seated position with his legs tucked underneath him. He let his arms hang loosely on either side as he stared in horror at the dismantled condition of the console.

There was hardly anything left. Most of the glass and accompanying dials, levers and switches had been removed exposing the jungle of cables and wires underneath. Only one section remained intact, but even that seemed broken without the soft turquoise backlight to give it character. No, the console seemed... dead.

Tears welled in the Doctor's eyes, blurring his vision. He hung his head, barely able to look away from the gutted console of his ship, his oldest friend, and let the tears fall down his cheeks. A part of him wanted to curl up into a tiny ball and forget that he was in this nightmare. But the other part of him slowly took over. A terrible anger welled up inside the Doctor's chest like a storm, an oncoming storm.

"What," the Doctor spoke in a dark tone, a voice he had not used since the Time War, "do you expect me to show you when you've taken my ship apart?"

"I want to know she works," Hauff said ignoring the pounding on the TARDIS doors from the outside. "So I can build more of these ships."

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. Hauff's use of 'she' struck him as rather odd. How would this human know the TARDIS has a female personality, let alone being a living ship? Of course. The old girl was trying to reach out for help, and she probably reached out to anyone who would listen. Somehow, Hauff heard the TARDIS, but has chosen to ignore her, save on a subtle subconscious level.

"You can't build these ships, Eric," the Doctor said even tone. Even though his anger was about to overflow, he realized that he may yet get through to Hauff's morality. "They are grown. This," he motioned toward the console, but indicated the entire ship, "is a living ship and by taking her apart piece by piece like this, you are killing her. She is the last of her kind, Eric. Destroy her and you will never learn anything."

Hauff paused and stared at the dark console. A range of conflicting emotions warred across his face. If this spaceship was nothing more than a hunk of metal and wires, he wouldn't care one bit what this alien said. But he had felt the presence of a higher, feminine intelligence brush across his mind and he knew that the Doctor spoke the truth.

Seeing Hauff's conflicted expression, the Doctor continued. "Instead of destroying the TARDIS, why not help me put her back together? See what she can really do, hm? Trust me, you would be absolutely amazed." Seeing a chance to move with a much slimmer possibility of getting clubbed again, he slowly climbed to his feet using the broken console for support.

The Doctor's suggestion put Hauff in the difficult place of indecision. He actually want to put the ship, TARDIS the alien called it, back together and see her for all her glory. But he knew if he did that, he would end up in some lab where he would be turned into a monster and buried down here in the Hive. He feared that more than anything.

Hauff leveled his gaze at the Doctor. "No," he said with dark conviction and raised the pry bar. "You are going help me reverse engineer this... TARDIS, or I will kill you."

Disappointment yet again. The Doctor had thought for a moment that Hauff would agree, the man certainly looked like he'd wanted to. The Time Lord sighed. "Oh, now, come on, Eric Hauff," he said with a slight shake of his head as he slipped his hand into the console and wrapped his fingers around a hose. "Killing me won't help you figure this out and you know it."

"Perhaps," Hauff took a step forward, "but I will make you help me." He reached out with the intent of grabbing the Doctor by the arm. Instead, he was sprayed in the face by a hot vapor.

The Doctor regretted pulling out that hose from the already savagely damaged console, but the vapor inside the hose was exactly what he needed to distract Hauff long enough to make a run for it. And run he did.

Now that he was on his home turf, the Doctor dashed, or rather limped as fast he could with the injuries he'd suffered, toward the hallway. The plan for the moment was that since he had a much better understanding of the layout of the TARDIS than anyone else, he would simply lose himself somewhere inside the time ship.

With Hauff's angry shouts echoing behind him, the Time Lord was actually thankful there wasn't much light. The darkness made it much easier to disappear into the shadows. Now if only he could control his laboring breath. It sounded like an oncoming freight train in his ears.

As he made for the hallway, a gunshot rang out and a bullet ricocheted off the wall right in front of him. He skidded to a halt in frustration. Squinting in the light of the flashlight beam shining right into his eyes, the Doctor slowly turned around. "Eric Hauff," he spoke delicately. "How about you put the gun down and we can talk about this like civilized people. What do you say?"

A second gunshot rang out.

A bullet slammed into the Doctor's shoulder knocking him forward a step.

"No!" Hauff shrieked in disbelief and ran toward the Doctor.

The Doctor sank to his knees and stared up at Hauff in shock as he held his bleeding shoulder. Booted footsteps stomped up behind him and with the clicks of several guns, the Time Lord knew those guns were trained on him.

"Sir," one of the soldiers said. "We were working on some doors down the hall when the radios and lights went out."

Hauff looked up at the group of men as they lifted their night vision goggles from their eyes. "Why did you shoot him?" he asked angrily.

The soldier who had spoken before stiffened at Hauff's tone. "He's the alien, sir, and he was obviously trying to escape," the man answered. "I saw him try to run from you. We have orders to shoot to injure."

One of the soldiers jogged around to the TARDIS doors and opened them wide flooding the dimly lit console room with bright laboratory light. Scientists and security poured into the room surrounding Hauff and the injured Doctor.

Hauff looked at the Doctor as the Time Lord was carted away and shook his head. Not because the alien was shot and captured, but because now the alien will be taken back to the labs and injected with the G-virus. Now, he would not get the help he needed from the alien, and that frustrated him to no end.

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To be continued.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: So I've been off the radar lately with all my stories due some serious curve balls Life decided to throw my way that left me not in the mood to write. But those things have been resolved and I'm back in the action here, so here is another chapter! Thanks for your patience!**

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The Doctor struggled against the army of soldiers and scientists that held him pinned so completely, even if he wasn't injured, he couldn't have hoped to escape them. He screamed in fury as he was lifted and slammed onto a gurney. He snarled as strap by strap, buckle by buckle, he was secured once again. Throbbing pain from the gunshot wound on his shoulder pulsed down his arm and only served to fuel his anger.

Through all of that, his eyes fell on Alice, his one remaining hope of escaping this hell. His hearts ached at the sight of her deeply saddened eyes as she watched him, but he forced that aside. Right now, he had to take a risk and hope that Alice was clever... very clever.

"You can't keep me down here forever!" The Doctor shouted. "I have friends. You know, the kind that will come looking for me when I don't show up for their birthday parties at Torchwood and UNIT! Oh yeah! I do hate to miss those parties too. They know how to have a good time, unlike you blokes."

"Somebody shut him up!" A commanding voice boomed over the commotion. "And get him out of here!"

Everyone in the TARDIS console room paused and stared at the source of the voice for one dangerous second. At the sight of Umbrella Corporation's CEO, Carl Hurst, the room became a flurry of motion as everyone jumped to finish their assigned tasks.

Friedman, Bolt, Brown and Blue surrounded the restrained Time Lord. Bolt grabbed a syringe filled with a sedative into the alien's arm and breathed a silent sigh of relief as the alien's shouts quickly dissolved into incoherent mumbling. While Bolt was a woman hardened by her work, she did not want to incur the wrath of Mr. Hurst.

The scientists, accompanied by a handful of security soldiers, carted the Doctor away as quickly as they could and they did not stop even when Mr. Hurst grabbed Doctor Friedman by the arm and pulled the man aside for what seemed to be a few stern words.

The Doctor fought the drowsiness of the drug and let his half-closed eyes linger a moment on Eric Hauff. The man wore an expression of frustration and disappointment, but those emotions were for his own selfish reasons. Nevermind him.

Then, the Doctor passed by Alice. He saw the look on her face and smiled.

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Alice watched as the Doctor was carted away by the team of scientists assigned to the Tyrant Project. She pursed her lips and clenched her fist. She had held off the security teams for as long as she could without rousing suspicion, and when she saw the Doctor actually make it inside the blue box he'd appeared in, she silently rejoiced.

Now, she couldn't help but feel helpless to offer any further aid to the Time Lord without winding up strapped to a gurney right next to him. What could she do now? She was all alone in this endeavor and she couldn't do this by herself. No, she needed help and thanks to the Doctor, she knew who she could contact for that help.

She left the TARDIS as soon as she could, but that was some fifteen minutes later. The Doctor was probably already in the testing labs of the Tyrant Project at that point. Alice knew that every minute she spent reaching out for help, was a minute closer until they injected him with the G-virus. She had no idea what Torchwood or UNIT was, but she couldn't conduct her search from the Hive. She just couldn't risk someone discovering her agenda.

Fortunately, part of her duties included maintaining her cover with Spence Parks. She and Spence played the role of a wealthy couple living in the mansion that secretly served as the entrance to the Hive. Thanks to that cover, she could come and go from the Hive as she pleased.

After a train ride up to the mansion that seemed to take forever, Alice entered the mansion. As the large mirrored doors slid closed behind her sealing away the dark secret behind them, she looked down the great hall. She listened and heard nothing but silence. Much to her relief, Spence seemed to be out.

With determination she made her way through the mansion to the garage. Her mind buzzed with a flurry of thoughts that eventually formed a plan that she felt was the best course of action. She would drive into the city, find an internet cafe and use their anonymous computers to do her search. Hopefully she would find what she was looking for before it was too late. Distracted by her thoughts, she reached out to open the door to the garage.

"Going somewhere?"

Alice gasped and involuntarily snatched her hand away from the door. She glared at the man who spoke and silently cursed the fact that she suspiciously looked like she was caught with her hand in the cookie jar. "Spence," she said and forced a smile. "I'm just going into town for a few things."

Spence smiled, but it was sly. "What do you need in town? Everything you need is right here." He moved in close to Alice and slipped his arm around her waist.

"Not quite," Alice said and rested her hands on Spence's shoulders. "We don't have any wine."

"Wine?" Spence pulled Alice closer, his lips mere inches from hers. "We have plenty of wine."

Alice leaned back and pulled free from Spence's arms with a playful smile. "We don't have chocolate wine," she said coyly as she wrapped her fingers around the doorknob. "Don't worry, dear. I'll be back soon." She blew Spence a kiss and was gone before he could protest.

However, Spence did not protest. He merely smiled a knowing smile. The Head of Security does not just leave to go buy chocolate wine after a highly prized test subject almost escaped. He knew Alice was up to something and he aimed to find out.

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As soon as the Doctor was safely returned to his lab, Friedman leaned against the counter and took a deep breath. With his frayed nerves somewhat calmed, he glanced at Brown and Blue. "Doctor Blue, prepare the subject for G-virus injections."

With a nod, Blue set to work preparing intravenous needles and setting them into the Doctor's veins. The Doctor didn't struggle much as he still fought against the sedative at work in his system.

"Doctor Brown," Friedman said to the other scientist. "Collect one canister of the G-virus and bring it here."

Without a word, Brown walked to the back of the room where a sealed glass cabinet was embedded into the wall. He grabbed the controls of the robotic arms inside the cabinet and maneuvered a spiraled vial of the purple liquid.

"You're going to inject the G-virus in him now?" Bolt asked with a raised eyebrow.

Friedman nodded once. "Mr. Hurst is anxious to see the results."

"I see. You do realize that his shoulder injury may skew the results?"

"Yes," said Friedman. "And I tried to explain that to Mr. Hurst, but he wouldn't hear of it. We have to inject him with the virus now."

"Hm," Bolt said. "We should at least wait until he exhales that sedative. We have no way of knowing how the G-virus will interact."

"Yes," Friedman said with another single nod. "Based on our previous tests, that shouldn't take very long."

Bolt said nothing further. Instead, she leaned against the counter next to Friedman and crossed her arms as she watched the alien. She observed how the creature was still slightly conscious and probably heard every word she and Friedman just spoke. Not that it mattered. In a short while, the alien is going to have a much worse problem to deal with.

.

.  
Alice set the cup of coffee she had to buy in order to use a computer down on the table. She wasn't interested in drinking coffee at a time like this. She completely focused on her search.

Tapping on the keyboard, she searched for UNIT, but frowned when Google displayed far too many results and none of them sounded like they would have anything to do with an alien in a blue box. She sighed and glanced around the cafe. There was a small nagging feeling that she was being followed, but then, she might just be paranoid.

With a sigh, Alice averted her eyes back to the computer monitor and this time entered the word Torchwood. Her eyes widened in surprise at the results. Even though the majority of the websites were written by civilians claiming conspiracies and hidden government agendas, Alice knew that there was truth behind those claims, and she paid attention.

She learned of a mysterious group of people who would appear at sites of strange occurrences or deaths that were paranormal or extraterrestrial in nature. They would always arrive in a black SUV, conduct their business and leave just as quickly as they came.

Some websites showed grainy photos of the SUV and of the people that drove it. While most of the photos depicted different faces making up the secretive team, one face was always the same, a man in a military overcoat.

Alice leaned back in her chair and took a breath to calm the tightness of anxiety in her chest. This Torchwood was what she was looking for and the urgency of the danger the Doctor was in only served to frustrate her. Here was all this information that she had to assume was at least partially true, but there was no way to contact them.

"Think, Alice," she said in a low voice. "Think!"

The local police. She snapped her fingers with a smile.

After a quick internet search, Alice had the number of a police station in London. She jotted the number down and asked the barista for a phone. She wasn't about to use her cell phone as she was quite sure her phone was tapped as is all Umbrella communications devices.

"Listen," Alice said into the phone several long minutes later, "You have my name and number, so just tell Torchwood that the Doctor is in serious danger and needs their help. Thank you!" She slammed the phone down on the receiver with a frustrated snarl. She was transferred more times then she would have liked and when she finally had a D.I. on the line, he claimed he knew nothing about any Torchwood. Still, she believed that if Torchwood was the kind of secret agency she suspected they were, she knew they were listening.

She sank down into a chair and waited. She checked her wrist watch. Thirty minutes had passed since she left the Hive. This plan wasn't going to work to prevent the Doctor from being injected with the G-virus. Alice knew that and accepted that grim fact. What she was counting on was getting to the anti-virus and using a substantial amount of reinforcements from this Torchwood to pull the Doctor out of the Hive.

Checking the time again, Alice sighed impatiently. The minutes ticked by at an unbelievably slow pace. She stood up and glared at the phone as if she were willing it to ring. Silence. She clenched her fists and pursed her lips. Nothing.

"Come on!" She hissed and ignored the strange glances from the patrons of the cafe.

Feeling that she couldn't wait any longer and that she had to get back to the mansion where she left Spence waiting, Alice began to march out of the cafe. She almost made it to the door when the phone began to ring.

Spinning on her heel, she raced back to the phone and snatched the handset out of the barista's hand. Ignoring the girl's protest, Alice answered the ringing phone. "Torchwood?" She tried not to sound surprised or desperate despite the fact that she was. "Is this Torchwood?"

"Who is this?" A man said on the other end of the line.

"I'm Alice and I don't have a lot of time. Is this Torchwood?"

"How do you know the Doctor?" The man's voice was even and stern.

"He's here in Racoon City held prisoner in a laboratory," Alice said quietly into the phone as she didn't want to be overheard. "He's in serious danger and I need your help getting him out."

There was a moment of silence and Alice forced away a brush of fear that the man had hung up on her. "I'm Captain Jack Harkness and I'll be there as soon as I can."

* * *

**A/N: I just *had* to have Jack be a part of this story. He is my favorite character next to the Doctor :D Don't worry, the wump picks back up next chapter :)**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Thank you all for the reviews so far! I just wanted to let you know that I really appreciate it!**

* * *

16 Hours Later.

Alice paced back and forth next to a tall stone tombstone carved to resemble an angel with open arms. The cemetery was the only place she could think of that provided the privacy this meeting needed. There were cameras and no other technology here. Not many people visited the graveyard these days, especially at eight in the morning.

She checked her watch and shuddered as a cold wind worked its chilly fingers through her coat. Brushing aside the locks of hair that blew across her eyes, she spied movement in the distance. Using the angelic tombstone as cover, Alice watched.

A car, yellow and unmistakably a taxi cab, pulled around and stopped near the tall oak tree. The passenger of the cab opened the door and stepped out, clutching the gray overcoat he wore around him as a strong gust of wind threatened to snatch it away. He bent over to speak to the driver, then stepped back and shut the car door.

Once the cab drove away and was well out of sight, the man scanned the cemetery until he noticed Alice standing by the stone angel tombstone. After a brisk walk and a few moments, he stood in front of the woman. "Are you Alice?" he asked.

Alice nodded once and studied the man's handsome features.

"Captain Jack Harkness," he said and held out his hand. He offered a small smile compared to his usual flamboyance, but this was not the time for games, not when the Doctor was in trouble.

"Alice... Parks. Nice to meet you," she said and shook Jack's hand. Parks was not her real name and she thought about giving this man her real name, but decided against it. "I'm sorry you came all this way," she shoved her hands back into her coat pocket, "but I'm afraid its too late for the Doctor."

"What do you mean?" Jack took a step closer to Alice and gazed at the woman with a hard look. "Where is he?"

She didn't expect such a reaction and she took an involuntary step back. Alice could clearly see the concern etched across Jack's handsome features and realized that the Doctor was more than just an ally to Torchwood, but a friend. "He's still in the Hive," she said. "Locked away where his mutations can be safely observed."

"Mutations?" Jack clenched his jaw and swallowed back the knot that grew in his throat. He couldn't begin to imagine what was happening to his friend. "Alice, tell me what is going on."

Alice drew in a deep breath as she collected her thoughts on how to explain just what has been going on so deep underground. "The Doctor appeared in the Hive two days ago. A terrible mistake for an alien."

"What is this... Hive?"

"A secret underground facility developing viral weaponry for the Umbrella Corporation," Alice said. "They have been trying to manufacture a virus that mutates the victim into a super-soldier. Animal and human tests have so far failed. That is until the Doctor came along. They saw their chance to test the G-virus on a new host and they did. Right now, the Doctor is locked away deep in the Hive as he mutates and becomes something else."

"Oh my god," Jack said in a whisper and covered his mouth with his hands. He stared at Alice in horror and tried to comprehend what the woman was telling him. "What you're telling me is that the Doctor is..." he choked up at the sound of his words vocalizing the thought, "gone?"

"I'm sorry," Alice said and lowered her eyes to the ground.

"No," Jack said with a tone of determination. "You're going to get me into the Hive, Alice Parks, and I'm going to get the Doctor out."

"I can't," she said. "No one is allowed in and only a few are allowed out."

"Don't worry. I've got this." Jack held up his wrist and tapped on the strap of the vortex manipulator.

"And what's that?" Alice asked.

"I'll explain later," Jack said. "Right now I need something from you, Alice. I want to know everything there is to know about the Hive and the Umbrella Corporation."

.

.

16 Hours Earlier.

The Doctor's mind was still clouded by the sedative. While he was rather perturbed that Bolt had injected him with the drug, he was thankful that these people had at least listened to his earlier warning of giving him aspirin. It meant that they fully intended to keep him alive, which was good because as long as he was alive, he had a chance of escaping.

His head lolled over one last time to watch Brown carefully maneuver a vial of the G-virus out of the sealed compartment where it was kept. Then the remains of the sedative accumulated in the back of the Doctor's throat and with a long breath, he exhaled the drug out of his system.

That still didn't mean he was in the clear. He tested the buckles that held him tightly restrained to the table. When none of the restraints offered any give, the Time Lord chewed on his lower lip. His situation was most frustrating.

Since the day he crashed here, he has been trapped in the clutches of the Umbrella Corporation. Honestly, they got lucky. He was injured and unconscious and they've been keeping him restrained ever since. If he had shown up in full health, he'd have put an end to this place and walked out of here a long time ago. The drugs certainly haven't been making his stay here any easy to escape. Thanks to that, his usual wit and mental sharpness has been rather dull.

Yes. Frustrating indeed.

Movement from Brown caught the Doctor's attention. The scientist had done a fine job at inserting two I.V. needles into the Doctor's major arteries along his arms, all in preparation of the injection of the G-virus. Brown set the vial into a clasp on the table near the Doctor's head and connected the two small tubes from the I.V.'s into the top of the canister.

"The G-virus is ready to be injected, Doctor Friedman," Brown said as he moved around the table to the counter and picked up a tablet. He tapped on the screen to enter new data into the system.

The older scientist smiled a dark smile. Even though Friedman resented the urgency enforced by Mr. Hurst as he wanted more time to study the alien, he was genuinely curious to see how the G-virus is going to mutate the creature. He moved around to the vial and held his hand over the valve lever. "Doctor Brown, please note the time of G-virus injection into the subject at 3:43pm," he said casually.

"Now wait a minute," the Doctor said as he glared at Friedman. "You really don't want to do this, Friedman. There's no telling what that stuff is going to do to me without further tests, yeah? I know you don't want to kill me or you would have done it already." Seeing Friedman pause to listen encouraged the Time Lord to continue. "I'm the first alien you've ever seen and you're going to inject me with a virus that could mutant me into something else? I could help you figure this out and you wouldn't have to do it the hard way."

"Yes, I'm sure you could," Friedman said with the slightest hint of regret in his voice that lasted a brief moment. "Unfortunately, I have my orders. Bolt," he turned to the woman, "we should probably protect his teeth."

Bolt nodded and opened a stainless steel drawer. Reaching inside, she pulled out a black rubber bar with a strap on either end. A gag. Without a word, she forced the bit into the Doctor's mouth despite his protests. She had learned to ignore anything the alien said and now she wouldn't have to hear him talk. Once the gag was secured around the alien's head, Bolt stepped back and returned to her station.

That was it. Now the Doctor was completely cut off. No sonic, no TARDIS, and now he couldn't even talk. Oh, he tried. It accomplished nothing but an incomprehensible moan and a stream of drool down his chin.

"Update the noted time of G-virus injection into the subject to 3:46pm," Friedman said and pulled the lever.

Where was Alice? The Doctor wondered as he watched the purple liquid flow through the clear tubing, racing all too quickly toward the needles that fed directly into his veins. Never had the Doctor felt so helpless. He was slammed against a brick wall and for the first time in his long life, he was powerless to do anything about it. He was alone and maybe just a little bit afraid.

The G-virus crashed into the Time Lord's bloodstream like a tidal wave.

His stomach turned as his body fought to reject the intrusive cells. Needle-like pain pin-pricked inside his abdomen and grew more intense with every passing second until it felt like he had been run through with a razor sharp sword. He turned his head to the side and the small amount of food left in his stomach came gushing out around the bit.

Friedman frowned at the sight of the vomit. Bolt let out an audible irritated sigh as she spun on her heel and headed toward the intercom to call for someone to clean up the mess.

The taste of the vomit remained fresh in the Doctor's mouth thanks to the gag and he fought back the urge to empty his stomach again. Waves of icy cold and burning heat flowed through his body from head to toe. The G-virus was changing him already, too quickly.

He could feel the virus altering him and yet his body fought against the virus. A war was being waged inside him and he wasn't sure who the winner was going to be. He scrunched his eyes closed and groaned under the stress of the battle fought inside him.

Every muscle in his body rippled as the G-virus took hold and mutated the tissue structure. He bit down on the gag as he arched his back and clawed at the sheet in burning agony. His muscles cramped and pulled against each other in ways that were never meant to be as the virus overpowered his internal defenses.

The stress was too much to bear. He screamed like that of a man experiencing the height of maximum pain anyone had ever endured, and his tortured screams echoed down the cold stainless steel halls only to land on deaf ears.

.

.

Mr. Wesker sat in the chair that belonged to the Hive's Chief of Security with both feet propped across the corner of the desk. His sunglasses slid slightly down the bridge of his nose and he pushed them back up as he pulled the computer keyboard closer. He keyed a laboratory number and smirked when the main monitor displayed the interior of the lab where the alien was being injected with the G-virus.

The black and white display silently showed the alien writhe in what had to be excruciating pain as the virus worked through the creature's system. The image sent a shiver of anticipation down Wesker's spine.

He almost wished he had popcorn.

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To be continued.


	11. Chapter 11

Umbrella Corporation's CEO of the Bio-Sciences Division stood in Laboratory 42 and frowned. He was the CEO, for christ sakes, why was he anywhere near these god forsaken labs? Because Mr. Wesker 'asked' him to, Carl Hurst reminded himself. He ran his fingers down the lapel of his very expensive suit, a nervous habit he had to admit, and deepened his frown. "What do you mean you haven't stabilized the new strain yet?" He spoke in a low and even tone to convey his displeasure.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Hurst," Friedman said with a pleading look. "The alien is still mutating. The mutation rate is slowing and I expect to have the new strain ready for animal trials in the next twelve hours."

Hurst leaned toward the doctor with a glare that would have torn through Friedman's skull if glares could do such a thing. "You have six." Without waiting for a response, he stormed out of the lab.

Friedman opened his mouth to protest, but promptly closed it. "Yes, sir," he said and silently cursed Hurst as the demanding CEO finally left him in peace. With a sigh and shake of the head, he returned to the computer and continued pouring over the initial analysis of the new virus strain.

Yes, he lied to Hurst when he said the alien was still mutating. He just wanted more time to study the new virus. He was rather taken by it, a perverted fascination of its beauty. Indeed, injecting the G-virus into the alien has progressed the strain in ways no one could have imagined, but in ways everyone wanted.

Besides, he knew how to work the system in his favor. He tells the higher ups its not ready, they give him an impossible time frame, which is actually plenty of time for him, and at the last hour produce a satisfactory result. That's how he became such a respected scientist for Umbrella.

With a grin, he set to work preparing the new virus for intravenous injection. A task that did not take long as a handful of minutes later, he held a container with a pair of spiraled glass tubes filled with a vibrant blue liquid that shined when he held it up to the light. He smiled. Now all he needed were a few test subjects.

He remembered the chimp incident during the first G-virus trial and decided to start small this time. No need to repeat that disaster. With several animals at his disposal, Friedman pulled a white mouse out of its tiny plexiglass cage and injected it with a small amount of the new virus.

Quickly, Friedman dropped the mouse back in its cage and locked the cage lid tight. Taking a step back, he leaned over and watched with the same gleeful look in his eye as a child at Christmas.

The poor little mouse almost immediately began to convulse, its mouth opening and closing in silence as its beady black eyes turned a sickly yellow. Then, its small form rippled from head to tail as its muscles bulged and contorted under its soft fur. Finally, the fur split open and peeled away revealing blood and flesh underneath, all the while the mouse emitted a shrill high pitched squeal. In a matter of seconds, the mouse had doubled in size.

Friedman was speechless as he watched the grotesque transformation, but a smile grew across his haggard features when he realized the implications of this new virus.

The mouse, for its part, turned its bloodshot yellow eyes toward the human that stared at it, and leaped at the fresh meat on the other side of the glass. Unfortunately for the mouse, the glass held fast and the mouse slammed into it with enough force to break its muzzle. That did little to deter the mouse. It scratched and clawed at the confines of the cage in a futile attempt to reach its prey despite the blood it smeared across at the glass with its broken face.

At first, Friedman jumped at the sudden and gruesome violence of the horrid little creature, but his apprehension melted away as his calculating mind raced with all the implications the mouse's transformation held. He leaned over and smiled at the mutant mouse. "You are quite the little tyrant, aren't you?" He chuckled at his own bit of cleverness.

He placed his fingers on a covered switch at the bottom of the cage. Lifting the plastic cover, he flipped the switch and watched as a deadly white gas hissed into the small cage.

The mouse convulsed and gasped for life, but in a matter of seconds, it was dead.

Turning the poisonous gas off, he flipped another switch that promptly sucked the gas out of the cage. He looked down at the small corpse with a maintained grin. He unlocked the cage lid and froze.

The mouse twitched.

Impossible, Friedman thought. Halon gas was the most deadly and efficient gas at killing any living organism. The fact that the Umbrella Corporation produces and manufactures it stood as a testament of its efficiency and effectiveness.

Still, the small mutant rolled over and stood on its haunches as it fixed its clouded eyes on Friedman. It opened its mouth and screeched as it launched itself at the scientist's face. Once again, it slammed into the glass and hissed at being denied its prey.

Friedman could not believe his eyes. The new virus had not only mutated the mouse, but made it immune to the Halon gas. But as he continued to observe the mouse, he noticed that its body began to decay at a rapid rate. So rapid that after several minutes, the mouse's skeletal corpse held only a few shreds of flesh and sinew as it continued its assault on its cage.

He realized that the gas did kill the mouse, but the virus resurrected it. He felt as giddy as schoolboy in a toy store at this fascinating new discovery. With a some unusually lively steps, he moved to the intercom and pressed a button. "Doctor Bolt, please collect another sample of the new virus from the alien and bring it to my lab. I think you will be quite interested in the results."

The Tyrant project can finally be called a success thanks to the T-virus made possible by the Doctor.

.

.

Eric Hauff rested on his knees on the grated floor near the TARDIS console. He held his head in his hands as he feverishly tried to figure out just what exactly he was going to do about the dangerous situation he was in. Peeking through his fingers, he dared another glance at the control console and cringed.

The console was in pieces. The only part of the console that remained intact aside from the structural base was the glass tubing that rose from the center. Nothing else remained connected and all the parts Hauff had just removed lay strewn all over the console room floor.

He hadn't even felt the presence, the entity that resided in the time machine. Ever since the Doctor was shot and taken away, the ship remained eerily silent and he feared that he had killed her, just as the Doctor had warned.

Worse still was the fact that he was not any closer to understanding how the time ship worked. No, he was quite far from it. Even though he was Umbrella's expert in engineering and mechanics, he had never seen anything like this ship before and he had no idea how to operate it. Not even the work opening the back rooms have yielded anything helpful.

"Working hard, I see."

Hauff whipped his head around to the source of the dark male voice and turned cold. "M-mr. Hurst," he said with a stammer that did well to convey his surprise... and fear. He jumped to his feet and nervously ran his fingers through his hair.

"Well, you've taken it apart," Hurst said and let his hard features display the fact he was well aware of Hauff's fear. "Can you tell me how it works? Or how we can mass produce it?"

"Umm." Hauff didn't want to answer those questions, but he couldn't lie to Hurst. Somehow that man could tell when someone was lying and the consequences were not desirable. "No." Not missing Hurst's hardening expression, Hauff took a pleading step forward. "This machine isn't like anything I have ever seen before. I'm sorry, Mr. Hurst, but the only one that make this work is down in the dining hall mutating into god knows what."

Hurst made it a point to stare long and hard down at Hauff. He visibly clenched his jaw. "You have six hours to give me something I can use." He didn't bother waiting for a response, he simply turned around and strode out of the time ship.

"Six hours?" Hauff mumbled. Hurst had essentially just told him that he was a dead man and how long he had before he was dragged away. He would probably be injected with some virus. Maybe the new one from the Tyrant project. They were always looking for human test subjects, but he would be damned if he was going to become one of them.

He had six hours to plan his escape.

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.

Bolt sighed. "Why the hell don't you ask Brown or Blue to get another sample, you old codger?" She grumbled her complaint under her breath and kept her displeasure to herself as she marched down the hall to the elevator, satchel in hand.

She knew that she was the only one in the Hive that Friedman trusted with new experiments. Not that she blamed the man. After all, she has been the only one not to back stab or sabotage Friedman's work, for whom she did hold a level of respect. Still, this almost crossed the line.

The elevator door slid open and she stepped inside. Pressing the button labeled 'Dining Hall B', she shuddered. Truth be told, she absolutely hated going down into that so called dining hall. Some of the most dangerous bio-organism weapons to date were contained down there and if it were up to her, only the Umbrella Biohazard Countermeasure teams would be allowed in.

But that wasn't up to her and when the elevator door opened, she entered Dining Hall B.

The dining hall perhaps once served as an actual dining hall, but with its bottom level location, the place was merely a cover for a storage of dangerous experiments. Several rows of black painted steel containers, just large enough to hold a human-sized creature, took up most of the floor space. Hoses, ducting, and cables of various sizes were stacked haphazardly and ran on the floor alongside the containers branching off and connecting the containers to fluids, gases and electricity. There was just enough space on the floor to walk.

Bolt headed down the second row and stopped in front of a container labeled 'Tyrant Sierra - Laboratory 42 - Doctor Friedman'. She glanced at the indicator sign next to the door and was quite relieved that the sign glowed green indicating that the contents within were stable.

Stepping up on a ledge at the base of the container, she peered into a small window and nodded in satisfaction.

As expected, the alien remained shackled with 'U' shaped metal clasps around its wrists and ankles bolted directly to the floor. Forced in position on its hand and knees, the alien leaned unmoving against the cold steel wall of the container with its shoulders sagged and head rested on the floor. It still wore the front and back cloth sheets from the initial injection, but those did little to cover the alien's otherwise naked body.

Observing that the alien did not appear to have outwardly mutated any further than the slight increase of muscle bulk right after the injection, Bolt also noted that all the tubes pumping in sedatives were still securely lodged into the alien's veins. It was clearly sedated with the slight and steady chest expansion and collapse of its breathing being the only movement it made.

She wanted to make damn sure that the alien was safely out cold, especially after what happened in the lab. She remembered how the alien's glowing golden eyes filled not with hate, but anger and... sadness, bore straight into her head. Her mind suddenly filled with memories that were not her own, memories that she didn't understand. With the haunting sound of an ancient bell tolling somewhere in her mind, she felt compelled to help.

Then, as suddenly as it happened, the sensation vanished and all around her was the terrible clanging of every loose item in the room as they crashed to the floor.

Friedman had to explain to her that the alien's brain scans went off the charts and everything in the room floated up in the air as she lunged forward to unbuckle the alien's restraints. Friedman had realized what was happening and stabbed the alien full of sedatives. How he was not affected by the alien's controlling power, Friedman didn't know, but one thing was clear, the alien had to be kept under sedation.

While there was a definite potential for the use of the alien as a weapon, it had to be kept unconscious until tests could be done. The power it obtained after only a few moments of G-virus injection was surprising and impressive. Who knew what it could do with that kind of mental power. Who knew how powerful it could become.

Bolt stepped back from the window and collected the sample from the slotted panel on the door. As soon as the sample jar was filled, she closed the panel, spun on her heel and headed back to the elevator as quickly as she could. She sure as hell didn't want that thing taking control of her like that again.

She didn't release her breath until the elevator closed its doors and began the ascent away from Dining Hall B.

.

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To be continued!


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: I updated the last chapter to make two changes,1) I want to make it clear that the T-virus comes from the Doctor and 2) by "the time ship was in pieces", I meant that the console was in pieces, not the whole TARDIS. Sorry for the misunderstanding on those!

Also a guest reviewer asked about Resident Evil, search for it on Google and you will learn all about it :)

Please carry on and check out this chapter :D

* * *

Spence remained in his hiding place behind the tall tombstone well away from where Alice spoke with the man in the military coat. Even though the distance made spotting him rather difficult, he couldn't hear what was being said. The next time he spies on Alice, he'd have to remember to bring a listening dish.

The meeting wasn't a romantic one, that much Spence could tell. Whatever the subject is, it's serious enough that the military man seemed determined and a bit emotional, while Alice looked sympathetic. Judging by what he observed, it was clear to Spence that Alice was planning something with that man and since they were meeting far out of range of Umbrella, he had to assume that it was a plan against the Corporation.

At least she isn't cheating on me, Spence thought with a smirk at the irony. His marriage to Alice was a fake, nothing more than a cover invented by the Umbrella Corporation to camouflage the entrance to the Hive at the mansion. Though that fact didn't stop either of them from enjoying certain passionate activities with one another.

Spence had been planning on smuggling a sample of the G-virus out of the Hive to sell on the black market. Such a virus would be worth millions. He had initially planned on the theft himself, but seeing Alice conspire against Umbrella let him know that he had someone he could trust, if not use, to accomplish his goal.

He just needed to find out what Alice was planning. There was nothing more he could do now but wait.

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"Tell me everything you know about the Umbrella Corporation and the Hive," Jack said as he stood in a confident stance with his arms crossed.

Alice nodded and shoved her hands in her coat pockets to shield them from the chilled air. "As far as the public is aware, the Umbrella Corporation manufactures household, hygienic and pharmaceutical products. Everything from laundry detergent to shaving cream to aspirin is made by Umbrella. There are few competitors.

That being said, the majority of Umbrella's profits are made from their Bio-Sciences Division creating bio-engineered and viral weapons sold to governments around the world. These weapons are made in utter secret in underground facilities such as the Hive. The Hive here is about a half mile under the city with only one entrance. The employees that work there from the office clerk to the scientist, live there. Few are permitted to enter and even fewer are allowed to leave."

Jack frowned in thought as he absorbed the information. "So what you're saying is that Umbrella is an evil mega-corporation engaging in illegal and dangerous activities with a secret facility that's difficult to impossible to get in or out of?"

Alice lowered her eyes and nodded once. "Yes."

"Good. I can work with those odds." Jack smirked.

"I hope so," Alice said. "I am Head of Security for the Hive and I can get you everything you'll need. Access cards, uniform, the works. But I can't guarantee anything, not unless that," she gestured toward the vortex manipulator on Jack's wrist, "is something better."

"Oh its an advantage," Jack said with a smile. "Of course if it worked like it was supposed to, this would be over already."

"What do you mean?" Alice asked.

"Never mind." Jack waved a dismissive hand and shook his head. "How did Umbrella capture the Doctor?"

"He was inside a blue police box that appeared in the Hive's lobby," Alice said. "Although, it was more of a crash landing. The box fell out of the air and when the door opened, the Doctor fell out through the smoke that poured out of the box. He was unconscious and badly hurt, so he was simply taken to a lab and kept restrained. The box was also taken to a lab to be reversed engineered."

"They have the TARDIS and they can get inside?" Jack grimaced. He knew that when the TARDIS doors are open, she's vulnerable. This was worse than he had thought. "I need to get in the Hive as soon as possible. I think I'll give the boys at UNIT a call. The Doctor has a long history with them. They are allies."

"UNIT." Alice nodded. "The Doctor asked for them too, but I couldn't find a way to contact them. I don't know what UNIT stands for."

"United Nations Intelligence Taskforce," Jack said. "With their manpower and equipment, they'll be able to infiltrate the Hive, shut it down, and get the Doctor out of there much quicker than I can alone."

"No, wait. They can't do that." A gust of wind blew a lock of hair across Alice's eyes. She reached up and tucked the lock behind her ear. "Any attempt of a mass infiltration by a large group like that will trigger the Hive's defense mechanism. The Red Queen, the Hive's computer system, will kill every living thing in the facility and permanently seal the doors. Once that happens, no one gets in. The only way to get the Doctor out is by a small covert operation."

Jack frowned, but nodded. "I see. How long will it take you gather what I need?"

"At least a couple of hours." Alice reached into an inside pocket of her jacket and pulled out a mobile phone. "Here take this. Its secure and non-traceable. I'll contact you when I have the supplies. I just need to know how many people in your team are going in? Though not more than four."

"Oh just me," Jack said with a slight grimace. "This isn't a Torchwood matter."

Alice looked perplexed. "I don't understand. He asked for Torchwood."

"He did?" Jack raised an eyebrow. "Huh. Torchwood and the Doctor don't exactly get along. I hope to change that one day. From the sounds of it, maybe I do. That reminds me, what does the Doctor look like?"

"Tall, skinny, scruffy brown hair, looks to be in his thirties," Alice said with a raised eyebrow of her own. "You don't know?"

Jack nodded and smiled. That description didn't sound familiar and he wondered how far in the future of his own timeline this Doctor was from. "You never know with the Doctor. Alright, Alice," he held out his hand, "call me when you're ready."

"I will, Mr. Harkness," Alice said as she shook Jack's hand.

With a small salute, Jack turned away from Alice and headed down the grassy slope. As he passed by an angel statue perched over a grave, he glanced warily at the weather stained statue. Then he shook his head and made his way to the road leading back to the city.

Alice watched the mysterious Torchwood agent walk away and contemplated what she was about to do. Assisting an infiltration with the intent of removing Umbrella's 'property' would not be taken lightly by the Company. If she were caught.

However, she wanted more than anything to help the Doctor escape the pain and torture Umbrella inflicted on him even if it meant being tortured herself. Having been a part of the cruel system for so long now, a part of her felt that she would deserve it. She couldn't let her fear of getting caught change her mind.

With a quick glance around the cemetery, Alice cinched the collar of her coat around her neck to defend against the cold wind and headed back to the Hive to fulfill her part of the rescue plan.

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Doctor Friedman glanced around the office of CEO Carl Hurst from where he stood in front of the large polished oak desk. He wasn't offered a seat, so he didn't presume he could sit. He kept telling himself that there was no reason to be nervous as he had completed the T-virus tests well within the six-hour time frame he was given. Still, the only sound in the otherwise silent room was the faint rustling each time Mr. Hurst turned a page of the report Friedman put together, and that imposed an uncomfortable silence.

His eyes fell once again on the man in the black suit that leaned against the wall behind Mr. Hurst. Friedman had no idea who the man was, but dared not ask. The man's demeanor was intimidating even though the man merely stood there with arms crossed. Maybe it was the man's dark sunglasses concealing the eyes that unnerved Friedman the most.

"I want you to start testing the T-virus on human subjects immediately," Hurst said as he flipped over the cover of report.

At the sudden sound of Hurst's voice, Friedman visibly jumped. He cringed at that and caught the smirk on the 'sunglasses' man's face. He focused on Mr. Hurst. "Yes sir," he said. "I am going to need human subjects."

"A shipment should be arriving in the hour," Hurst said. Leaning back in his chair, he held up his fingers in a steeple. "The alien has the potential to be a powerful weapon. Do you think it can be used as such?"

"The alien's abilities are quite powerful, but unfortunately, unstable." Friedman shifted his weight to the other foot. "It can only be controlled if it's sedated and the sedatives practically diminish the its power."

"So what you're saying is the alien is of no further use to us?" The man with the sunglasses spoke. His tone was smooth and sinister rolled into one.

"Aside from the tests I still need to run on its physiology," Friedman said. "The alien is no use to us as a weapon."

"Then finish your tests and destroy it," the man said. "I want to see your autopsy report."

Friedman nodded once. "Yes, sir."

"We're done here, Doctor Friedman," Hurst said and gave the scientist an expectant look.

Not wanting to overstay his welcome, Friedman turned around and marched out of the office. He wasn't pleased with the order to kill the alien. That was such a waste. Sure, the alien has mutated into something else, but there was still so much to learn from it.

Of course, he wasn't given a hard date of when to destroy the alien, just when he was finished with his tests. He could stretch out those tests for as long as he wanted. Friedman smiled and quickened his pace to his lab. He had a lot of work to do.

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Down in the furthest reaches of the Hive in the place called Dining Hall B, the Doctor stirred. He shuddered involuntarily not only from the cold of the steel container he was locked in, but from the virus that still worked within him, changing him, turning him into...

He didn't want to think about what he was becoming, he honestly didn't want to know. But he had to know, didn't he? That need to know was still a very large part of him and his thoughts, cloudy as they were, continued to work out the possibilities.

He also needed to escape, now more than ever. The TARDIS had stopped calling out. Her cries had fallen silent. This terrified the Doctor more than what was happening to him. Anger surfaced once again out of the pool of mixed emotions and he yanked his arms up, or tried too.

The cold metal clasp that affixed the Doctor's arms and legs to the floor of the container didn't even rattle. They held him tight.

Sighing in frustration, the Doctor rested his forehead on the floor and stared at his wrists. To his surprise, both his wrists wore dark bruises where they weren't caked in blood. Had he tried to break the bindings before? He cursed the drugs being pumped into his system on a steady stream. His normally sharp mind felt like a dull knife trying to cut through bread and now he suffered short term memory loss.

The Doctor drew in a deep breath and closed his eyes. "Think!" He whispered. "Fight the sedative and quit being so thick! Think!" He might as well have been trying to move a mountain with his bare hands. He had to get those needles out.

He flexed his back and tried to twist in such a way that the needles would rub and snag on the container wall. With the immovable clasps locking his ankles and wrists to the floor forcing him to remain on his hands and knees, he couldn't quite get the right angle. It was no use. The needles were placed in the right areas to prevent exactly what he tried to do.

At this point, the Doctor knew that there were only two means of escaping the container left available to him. One, wait until someone lets him out or two, use his new found, if not disturbing, telekinetic power to pull the needles out.

The odds of someone coming to help him seemed rather slim, so he focused on fighting through the drug induced fog in his brain and honing that power to his advantage.

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To be continued!


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: It turns out I may have too many hobbies, LOL. The main thing that has taken my time was helping a friend start a LARP. I do thank you for reading this story, being patient, and leaving reviews. You are awesome! Anyway, without further ado, here is chapter 13! :)**

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The Doctor was exhausted, but he wasn't about to give up now. He had spent the last couple of hours that felt like days fighting the sedatives and tranquilizers, but he had actually made some progress. One of the eight needles that ran down his spine now lay coiled up on the floor.

However, that simple tasked drained him to the point that he could barely hold his eyes open. "No." The word slipped between his lips in a sharp determined hiss. He was not known to give up and he was not about to tarnish that reputation now. He tightened his fists and focused his thoughts on the removal of the next needle.

The sound of the elevator chime echoed through the dining hall and yanked the Doctor out of his concentration. He listened intently to the sounds that followed.

The heavy booted footsteps of six men, the Doctor counted, and the soft footsteps of a woman approached his holding container and stopped abruptly just outside the container's door. The keypad bleeped as a series of numbers was keyed in and with a heavy click, the container door hissed open.

The Doctor lifted his head and squinted at the flashlight beam that cut into his light sensitive eyes.

"Good afternoon, Doctor," Bolt said with a pleasant smile. She glanced over her specimen and grinned. "You've been busy, I see. Did you remove that needle or did it simply fall out?"

The Doctor's first instinct was to gloat on his ability to use his newfound power, albeit limited use under the heavy sedation. However, he knew better than that and assumed that the fact he wasn't knocked out cold by the drugs was more than enough information for Bolt. "It fell out," the Time Lord said in an unintentional weak voice he instantly despised. "Probably from all the shivering I've been doing. Its very cold in here. How about some proper clothes, eh?"

He glanced at the men behind the woman and recognized them as the soldiers that moved through the halls of the Hive. They wore black military-style fatigues with black bulletproof armor and black helmets with the visors down hiding their faces. Each man was armed with a pistol on the hip and a rifle slung over the shoulder.

Bolt let out a chuckle. "Oh, I'm quite sure the needle fell out because of shivering." Sarcasm dripped thickly over every word she spoke. "Whatever do you need clothing for? You are to undergo a few more experiments before the autopsy. You don't need clothes for that."

Outwardly, the Time Lord's upper lip curled slightly, but inwardly, he fought back a wave of panic. He wasn't sure if the Umbrella Corporation was going to keep him around or not, but now it seems they weren't after all. If he was going to escape this place seated firmly in hell, this 'outing' was going to be his last chance.

The woman motioned to the men behind her. "Prepare to restrain the subject." Without hesitation, the men moved around Bolt as she stepped over to the keypad. She tapped in a code and the restraints holding the Doctor to the floor flipped open with four loud clicks.

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"Here," Alice said as she handed Jack a black duffle bag. "Put these on."

Jack took the bag and couldn't help but note that the cold wind had picked up. He involuntarily shivered at the thought of changing clothes out here in the open cemetary in the chilly air, but as quickly as the apprehension came, it left. He had, as a matter of fact, been in colder situations with a lot less clothing and he grinned at the memory.

He opened the duffle bag and examined the contents. Black military-style fatigues, black combat boots, black bulletproof armor, a black helmet with a dark tinted visor and miscellaneous tools of the trade. "Stylish", he said with a smirk.

"That is the uniform of the Umbrella Biohazard Countermeasure team in the Hive," Alice said evenly. "The U.B.C. has full access to the storage facility where the Doctor is being held. No one will question your presence there."

Jack held up the black cargo pants and nodded. "I'm just glad you guessed my size," he said tossing Alice a wink. Without another word, he shrugged off his coat, slid the gray bracers off his shoulders and began unbuttoning his dark blue shirt.

Alice blushed when she realized Jack was going to change right in front of her and quickly turned around. She wasn't missing the odd aloofness of the captain, but she chose to ignore it because she couldn't understand how he could be so... jovial in face of doing something that could get him killed. She was quite sure that there was much more about Jack then he led on. While curious about that, now just wasn't the time to ask those sort of questions.

"You can turn around now," Jack said with great amusement at Alice's modesty. "How do I look?" He posed with his hands on his hips and grinned wide.

"Like a member of the Umbrella Biohazard Countermeasure," Alice said with a slight grin.

Jack shrugged his shoulder. "Huh. I've been called worse," he said with a cheeky grin as he stuffed his own clothes and the coat into the duffle bag. "Now, here are my things." He handed her the duffle bag, but maintained his hold when Alice grabbed its handles. "Please take care of the coat. That coat and I have had quite the adventures together and I would hate to replace it."

"Don't worry," Alice said. "We're going to store it in that mausoleum over there." She nodded her head in the direction of the large stone tomb. "It will be safe from discovery by Umbrella or anyone else."

"Sounds good to me," Jack said after glancing at the mausoleum and releasing the bag into Alice's care. "Now. Let's get down to business." He tugged the sleeve of his black shirt over the vortex manipulator that never left his wrist and his jovial demeanor instantly morphed to match the seriousness of the situation. "Alright, Alice. Let's go rescue the Doctor."

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Doctor Friedman waited impatiently for Bolt to return with the alien. He glanced at the clock on the wall. She had left twenty minutes ago. What was taking so long? He thought with a sigh. He swiveled in his chair to peer out the thick glass laboratory window down the hall, and frowned. No sight of Bolt and his precious test subject.

He had already injected five humans with the new T-virus, as he was instructed, and had them locked away in the incubation chambers. He was curious of what they would become, but he didn't care much about them as he did for the alien, his Time Lord. Mr. Hurst and that sunglass-wearing creep were fools to demand the death of the Doctor, a creature that had so much potential, at least in the eyes of Friedman.

He was about to turn his attention to the computer that displayed blocks of information on the new T-virus, when he heard the familiar rattle of a cage echo from the hall. Looking up, he smiled.

There was Bolt walking next to a wheeled metal cage that came up to just above her hips. A series of small holes just big enough to see through ran along the top of each side and a large padlock clanged against the metal door. Cages like this one were just large enough for a human to crouch inside and were perfect for safely transporting test subjects through the Hive.

Friedman scurried to the door and pressed the button. With a wide smile, he eagerly ushered Bolt and the cage inside his lab. "What took so long?" He asked as he ran his fingers across the top of the cage. "How is the alien?"

Bolt's displeased frown slid into a complete scowl. She felt rather upset that the man didn't give a damn about anything or anyone except that damned alien. "It put up a fight," she said indignantly. "We had to neutralize it."

"Neutralize it?" Friedman was shocked and immediately thought the worst as he snatched the padlock key from the hand of the U.B.C. soldier that held it.

"Relaxed," Bolt said nonchalantly. "It isn't dead." Without hiding her disappointment, she crossed her arms and sat on a nearby stool.

Friedman opened the cage door and peered inside.

The Doctor lay on his side with his arms cuffed behind his back. A short chain no longer than six inches connected the cuffs to shackles around the Time Lord's ankles. In addition to the metal cuffs and shackles, his wrists and ankles were also tethered with thick, police grade zip ties that cut into his flesh.

He was not unconscious anymore and when the cage door opened, he shifted slightly to peer up at his captor. He blinked away blood trickling down the side of his face as he gave Friedman a hardened glare. He would have given the man a piece of his mind if it weren't for the gag strapped around his head, filling his mouth. His instinct at this moment was to use his power and escape. However, his mind and body was still severely under the effect of a new round of tranquilizer.

Friedman reached in and brushed away a lock of the Doctor's hair that lay matted and blood-soaked over a fresh gash just above the alien's ear. "What happened here?" He asked Bolt.

"I told you it put up a fight." She shrugged her shoulder. "One of the soldiers thought it best to knock the alien out using the butt of his rifle. Who was I to argue? I still injected him with enough tranquilizers to knock out an elephant."

"It looks like the Doctor has surpassed the elephant considering he's looking at me as we speak," Friedman said and shot the woman a disapproving frown.

"What?" Bolt unfolded her arms and despised the chill that ran down her spine. She wished Friedman would just hurry up and kill that thing. The alien frightened her more than she cared to admit.

Ignoring Bolt's question, Friedman ordered the U.B.C. soldiers standing by to give him a hand in moving the Doctor to the examination table.

As the men grabbed his arms and yanked him out the cage, the Doctor felt his right shoulder dislocate from its socket with an audible pop. He ground his teeth into the gag from the pain and emitted a whimper as he was lifted up.

The stainless steel table, not unlike the kind used in a morgue, rattled like thunder as the Doctor was practically dropped onto it. The sharp cold of the metal against his bare skin made the Time Lord inhale sharply through his nose and he shuddered as goose bumps raised over his entire body.

Friedman dismissed the soldiers, but told them to stand guard outside, even as Bolt stood at the ready with an injector gun filled with that dreaded sedative. Once the soldiers left the laboratory, Friedman turned to his prized subject. He removed the gag from the Doctor's mouth. "Hello, Doctor," the older scientist said in a grandfatherly voice that would have been pleasant if it wasn't for the sinister truth under the man's exterior.

The Doctor spit out the poignant rubbery residue left in his mouth by the gag. "This is getting ridiculous and has gone on far enough," the Doctor said. "I'm lying here practically naked and I have politely asked for some clothes on several occasions. How about it, Friedman? And maybe toss in a banana too. I haven't eaten in several days now." While neither clothes or food really mattered to the Doctor at this point, his goal was to cause a distraction while the sedative in his body was neutralized.

Friedman smiled as he stepped over to a machine perched at the head of the examination table. The older scientist pulled out a long slender metal rod with a sharp point on one end and a cable leading back to the machine on the other. "Sorry, Doctor," he said as he grinned down at his 'patient', holding the rod firmly in his grasp. "You don't need either of those anymore."

Without another word, Friedman held the Doctor's head down with the flat of one hand, while he drove the rod up into one of the Time Lord's nostrils with the other.

The Doctor screamed as the rod punched through his nasal cavity and the tip entered the center of his brain. The room began to spin and he scrunched his eyes closed to make it stop. Fortunately, the sensation didn't last very long and he slowly opened his eyes. "What... did you do... to me?" He asked as he swallowed back a wave of nausea.

Friedman didn't answer, but instead grinned at the data the machine was providing.

Suddenly, the Doctor felt free of the drugs. He no longer needed to exhale such poisons, the T-virus took care of that internally. His eyes darted to Bolt holding that injection gun and he focused on the woman. He had control of her mind once before, surely he could do it again.

Bolt looked the Doctor right in the eye and took a step toward him. Then her gaze turned to Friedman, who was completely oblivious of her movement, and she raised the injection gun with the intent of using it on the older scientist.

"Bolt, take a loo-", Friedman said as he turned around and froze in shock at the sight of Bolt with the injection gun mere inches from the back of his neck.

Bolt lunged forward.

Friedman slapped the gun out of the woman's hand, sending it clattering to the floor, and he shoved Bolt back with all his strength.

She staggered into the stool behind her, slipped on the polished floor and fell. Her head bounced off the hard surface with a solid thud effectively knocking her unconscious.

Friedman spun on his heel and gawked at the Doctor in awe until he was struck in the back of his head with a glass beaker that shattered on impact. He shrieked and ducked as other objects in the laboratory swirled around in the air and struck him at random.

Meanwhile, the Doctor used his telekinetic power to grab a sharp scalpel and cut through the plastic zip tie around his wrists. The cuffs were easy enough to undo and as soon as his hands were free, he pulled that cold metal rod out of his brain. Propped up on an elbow, he wiped away some clear brain fluid from his nostril, but that did not stop the free flow.

Friedman fell to his knees, scrambling for the injection gun as the lab door slid open. The soldiers standing guard outside flooded in and immediately had to duck and fight against the ever growing tornado of items.

Once the injection gun was in his hand, Friedman stood and narrowly avoided a flying cabinet door that crashed into the nearby wall. He reached the Doctor's leg when his arm was grabbed by one of the soldiers.

He struggled with the soldier and managed to tear his arm from the man's grip. As the soldier's arm wrapped around his neck and another soldier moved forward to assist, Friedman plunged the needle of the gun into the Doctor's calf.

"Gaaahhh!" The Doctor gasped at the sudden pain of the sharp needle stabbed into his leg. He lost his concentration on the soldiers minds he controlled and watched in dismay as the large vial in the injection gun filled with a yellow tinted liquid emptied into his veins. As the tranquilizer took hold, the Doctor didn't fight the tears of despair that trickled down his cheeks. He had thought he was powerful enough to escape and he had thought wrong.

As the Time Lord sank into oblivion and the flying items crashed to the floor, Friedman exhaled a sigh of relief. While he was excited at the growing power the alien displayed, he knew that he could never see the full potential. As the two soldiers shook their heads as if coming out of a spell, the old scientist vowed to never let the Doctor open his eyes again.

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To be continued!


	14. Chapter 14

Alice and Jack hadn't spoken a word since they left the cemetery, making the drive through Raccoon City to the mansion a long and quiet one. When they did speak, it was in a format appropriate for the Head of Security and a lieutenant. Anything else just couldn't be risked. Umbrella's eyes and ears secretly monitored all aspects of life within the city and not even Alice was sure where or who those eyes and ears were.

As Alice pulled into the driveway of the mansion, Jack pulled the gas mask over his face. Not even his eyes could be seen thanks to the dark smoked glass of the goggles. Once the car was parked, Jack slung his rifle over his shoulder and followed Alice inside like a proper soldier would. All he had to do was act natural and he was rather good at it. There was nothing for Jack to be worried about at this point. He had faith in Alice that the Head of Security had taken care of everything to explain his presence.

Alice stopped in front of a set of eight large mirrored panels embedded from floor to ceiling into the wall of the great hall. She pushed a small button disguised in the frame of the mirrors and a panel opened. She tapped in the access code and took a step back.

The small panel closed and with the deep click of a large mechanism, the center of the mirrors spread apart to reveal a thick metal door. Another access code later and the metal door lifted off the floor and ascended into the ceiling.

Jack took note of the thick door, a blast door from what he could tell, as it lowered back into place with a thud. Security was as tight as he was told, the Umbrella Corporation definitely wasn't kidding around. Neither was he.

Alice wasted no time heading down the short ramp onto the train platform below.

The platform was part of a larger room filled with several tall columns that supported a shadow shrouded ceiling. Stacks of crates that presumably needed to be taken to the Hive sat at the base of the columns. No else was present making the entire area eerily silent.

The train, a subway converted for cargo, was not at the platform. However, the scrapes and clattering of the approaching train echoed up from the dark tunnel.

Standing at the edge of the platform, Alice and Jack didn't move as the subway grinded to a stop. The metal door slid open with a thud and Spence stood grinning on the other side.

"Hi honey," Spence said with that knowing look that a parent would have after catching their child red-handed in the cookie jar. He even tossed Alice a small salute as icing on his grinning face.

Alice jumped back and gasped at the sudden appearance of her 'husband'. "Spence!" She clutched her chest and drew in a breath. "What are you doing here?"

Jack held his ground behind Alice and continued to act his part of lieutenant. Any action out of the ordinary would blow his cover and he would be trapped down here along with the Doctor. If these people discovered his immortal secret... he shuddered at the thought.

Spence jumped off the crate he had chosen to perch upon. He stepped up to Alice and stared down at her with a smug grin. "I saw you coming and thought I'd surprise you," he said smoothly. "Looks like it worked."

Her cheeks flushed uncontrollably. Alice was embarrassed that she was so easily startled, and by of all people, Spence. However, her training kicked in and she looked Spence in the eye with a confident smile. "Yes, Spence, you got me," she said. "I need to check in. Can we get going?"

"Sure." Spence shrugged his shoulder and motioned toward the train's controls. "Go right ahead." As Alice pushed past him in a huff, he looked at Jack. He glanced at the name patch stitched on Jack's armored vest then up to the eyes of the gas mask. "How's it going, Burke?"

Jack nodded once. "Well, sir." He entered the train car and closed the door behind him. As the train slowly began its descent to the Hive, he sat on a crate next to the door and stared straight ahead.

Spence grinned and nodded as he chose to sit on a crate directly across from Jack. He crossed his arms and glanced between Alice and Jack with narrowed eyes. Something was up, but he knew he wasn't going to get any answers right here. He would watch this play out and be there as soon as there's a chance to steal the T-virus.

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Once Jack and Alice stepped off the elevator into the lobby of the Hive, they parted ways. Spence tagged after Alice as she headed right down the corridor toward her office. Repairs were being done on the window monitors in the lobby affirming to lead Jack that this was where the TARDIS crashed. He took a left down the corridor in the opposite direction of Alice.

He had memorized the route he needed to get to Dining Hall B, but he had also scanned the map into his vortex manipulator, just in case.

Much to Jack's relief, none of the Umbrella employees gave him a second look. As a matter of fact, some of the UBC personnel wore gas masks as well. He fit right in.

As he moved past office windows, he noted nothing out of the ordinary. The offices looked like any other office. Jack had to remind himself that he was a half mile underground in a secret bio-weapons testing facility.

Finally, Jack reached the elevator to Dining Hall B. He punched in the access code and the elevator door slid open. He stepped into the elevator and turned around to watch the door close.

A hand appeared between the elevator doors just as they were about to touch, and the doors opened back up just as they are supposed to. "Thanks for waiting for me... Burke," Spence said as he entered the elevator.

Just great, Jack thought and frowned under the gas mask. He had sensed that Spence suspected something wrong when they were on the train and now he caught the sarcasm on the man's voice. Glancing up, Jack noted the security camera in the corner of the elevator.

"Why are you going down to the dining hall?" Spence asked. His tone and expression displayed his suspicion of the captain.

"I have orders to check on the containers," Jack replied evenly.

"Were you now?" Spence narrowed his eyes. "I'll give you a hand then."

The elevator continued its descent and a few short moments later opened its doors to Dining Hall B.

"I know you're after the T-virus," Spence said as he followed Jack into the dining hall.

Jack glanced along the shadowed dark walls looking for cameras, but he couldn't see them. If there were any, he knew that Alice was monitoring them, though her protection only went so far. He slipped his hand in his pants pocket, palming a small white pill as he turned and faced Spence. "Not exactly," he said. "But you're getting in my way."

Before Spence could react, Jack lunged forward and clasped the palm of his hand across Spence's mouth, while grabbing the back of the man's head. The other man struggled, but Jack held fast as they both collapsed to the floor.

Spence kneed Jack square in the kidneys, but the captain's armored vest took most of the force.

In response, Jack kept his hold across Spence's mouth and drove his other fist hard into the man's gut, forcing a gagged cough as the tiny pill slid down the man's throat.

"Don't worry, Spence," Jack said as he raised his fist. "When you wake up, you won't remember a thing." He brought his fist down across Spence's temple, knocking the man out cold.

In an instant, Jack was on his feet. He bolted from container to container until he found the one he was looking for, the one with a small plaque that read, 'Tyrant Sierra - Laboratory 42 - Doctor Friedman'. He peered through the small window on the container door. "Oh no," he whispered.

He focused his attention on the access panel of the container and keyed in the code. He yanked the door open and his mouth fell open in shock.

The container was empty.

Jack pursed his lips as he dug out the com that Alice gave him. He put the earpiece on. "Alice, there's a problem," he said. "The Doctor is not in the dining hall."

"I know," Alice said solemnly. "I just found out that he was moved. I'm sorry, Jack, but the Doctor, he's..." Her voiced cracked.

"He's what, Alice?" Jack pressed his fingers on the earpiece to hear clearly. "Where is he?"

"In laboratory 42," she said. "I can see him through the camera. He doesn't look... alive."

"Then I'm going to laboratory 42," the captain said and pulled his sleeve back from the vortex manipulator.

"Alright." Alice regained her composure. "I can get rid of the security posted around the lab, but I can't guarantee Friedman won't be there."

"I can work with that." Jack tapped a couple keys of the vortex manipulator. "Once I get the Doctor, I'm moving forward with the plan."

"I understand, "Alice said. "I'll make sure the retcon is ready. Good luck."

Jack left the earpiece in and crouched down. He held the vortex manipulator out to let its beams of light display a map on the floor. Once he knew where the lab was located, he wasted no time getting to the elevator.

After a walk that seemed to take far longer than it should have, Jack finally arrived at laboratory 42. There were no signs of the guards Alice had warned him about. He peered into the lab through the circular window in the door. The room was empty of Umbrella personnel.

The captain tapped in the access code and entered the lab. He drew in a sharp breath at the horrible state of the man that lay on the cold metal table, the man that matched the photo Alice had showed him. "Doctor!" Jack tore off the gas mask, tossing it to the floor as he rushed to his friend's side no longer paying attention to the Time Lord's altogether new appearance. "Oh my god! What have they done to you?" Tears streamed down his cheeks.

The Doctor lay on his back, unmoving and nude save for a swatch of pristine white cloth draped over his waist. His arms and legs were shackled tightly to the table with a restraint, metal cuff, and thick zip tie on each wrist and ankle.

While an intravenous drip fed a sickening yellow liquid directly into his arm and sensor pads dotted the Doctor's body, the worst were the metal probing rods. Two were embedded into the Time Lord's abdomen, two in his chest, and one deep in his nose into his brain. Dried blood scabbed around each wound on his body, while fresh blood maintained a slow but steady stream that trickled from his nose down his cheek.

Jack didn't like the paleness of the Doctor's skin that made the brown and yellow bruises along the Doctor's sides and the dark circles around the eyes stand out so starkly. But what worried Jack most of all was Time Lord's closed eyes and slightly blue lips, the tell-tale signs of death.

The captain gently laid his hand across the side of his friend's head, swallowing at the cool clammy feel of the Time Lord's skin and the sweat-soaked hair. He looked up at the machines and realized that the Doctor's brain and heart activity was being monitored. A jagged wave played across a screen. A single beep pulsed steadily.

Jack smiled and wiped the tears from his eyes.

The Doctor was still alive.

One heart wasn't beating and the other was faint, but the Time Lord still lived!

"Doctor," Jack gently cupped either side of the Time Lord's head with his hands, "it's me, Jack Harkness. I'm going to get you out of here." The Doctor didn't respond, but Jack didn't care. He didn't care about subterfuge anymore. All he cared about was getting the Doctor out of this hell.

With a grimace, Jack braced the Doctor's damp forehead, gripped the probe lodged in his friend's nose and pulled. The probe slid out easy enough, but earned a slight pained gasp from the Doctor. Even though he hated causing the Doctor even more pain, the captain removed probe after probe, needles and sensors until there nothing attached the Doctor's body save the restraints.

Jack was prepared to deal with the restraints and started with the zip ties. Using a large pair of snips he had in one of the many pockets of the uniform, he cut the ties one by one with ease.

The Doctor moaned and turned his head, his eyes still scrunched closed. "Jack..." he mumbled.

"Hey, Doctor," Jack said with a smile and gave the Doctor a reassuring pat on the arm. "I'm here. I almost have you free." He pulled a small key out of another pocket and began to open the handcuffs.

"What are you doing?!" An older man in a lab coat stood in the doorway with his hand firmly on the alert button summoning the soldiers of the Hive's security. "Don't let him open his eyes, he'll kill us all!"

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To be continued!


	15. Chapter 15

The alarm sounded throughout the Hive on all levels and in almost every room.

In the office of CEO Carl Hurst, a pulsing red light illuminated the wall on either side of the door catching Mr. Hurst's attention. He looked up from reading a report on his desk and frowned. "What the hell?"

Picking up the phone, he dialed a number and waited impatiently for the two seconds it took for the other end to be answered. "Is there a problem, Parks?" He spoke abruptly.

"Doctor Friedman activated the alarm in Laboratory 42," Alice said. "We're on our way there now."

"Report to me as soon as you get to the lab," Hurst said and slammed the handset onto its cradle. He picked up a handkerchief and wiped the beading sweat from his brow.

"I don't have to remind you," Wesker pushed his sunglasses up to the bridge of his nose as he rose from the sofa, "if the alien escapes, it will be on your head." Without another word, he left the CEO alone in the office to contemplate his warning.

.

.

Jack was so engrossed in the task of freeing the Doctor, he didn't even hear the door open. He spun around and faced the older man. "You must be Friedman," he said with a smirk despite his instant loathing for the man. "I've heard all about you."

"You don't even know what you're doing." Friedman spoke with annoyance, but his tone was laced with fear. "He's controlling you, you stupid grunt." He pulled out an injector gun filled with the yellow liquid of tranquilizer from his lab coat pocket and stepped toward the Doctor.

"Oh, no you don't." Jack swung the rifle on his shoulder around and aimed the dangerous end at Friedman. "Drop it."

The scientist was visibly startled and dropped the injector gun clattering to the floor without a second thought. Friedman wasn't known for his bravery and besides, the U.B.C. would be here any second.

Jack stepped forward and kicked the injector under the Doctor's table where it would be difficult to reach. Using the rifle, he motioned toward the other end of the lab. "Move away from the door," Jack said. He heard the heavily booted footfalls of the approaching security team and saw the first of them come around the corner.

As Friedman obeyed, the captain rushed up to the keypad next to the door. He yanked back his sleeve to uncover the vortex manipulator and held the device up to the keypad. With the press of a button, the manipulator scrambled the code for the door, buying him some much needed time.

"Jack?" The Doctor croaked in a weak voice.

Keeping an eye on Friedman, who sat obediently on a stool at the other end of the room, Jack returned to the Doctor's side. "I'm here, Doctor," he said soothingly as he dug the key for the handcuffs back out and continued to unlock them. "You look like hell. How are you feeling?"

The Doctor, his eyes still closed, groaned in answer as small glints of golden light played over his body slowing healing the wounds from the probes.

Seeing the golden light, Jack paused a moment wondering if this was some sort of healing process or the start of regeneration. While he had not yet witnessed a Time Lord regenerate, he'd heard plenty enough about it as a Time Agent to know what that golden glow could mean.

"My god," Friedman said. "You're actually helping him of your own free will, aren't you? Who are you? How did you get in here?"

The spoken words shook Jack out of his worry. Ignoring the vile scientist, he removed all the shackles from the Doctor. He then noticed for the first time that the Doctor was completely nude save for the sheet across the waist.

Surprisingly without giving the Doctor's nudity a second thought, Jack turned to Friedman. "You. Trousers. Now." His mind raced in anger at how the Doctor's dignity had no meaning to these people, to this man he glared at now.

"What?" Friedman looked at the captain with a genuine look of confusion.

"Do you know who the Doctor is and what he's sacrificed to save the people of this planet time and time again?" Jack didn't hold back the anger he felt.

The older scientist glanced between Jack and the Doctor. He shook his head.

"And this is how you treat him?!" Jack took a threatening step and aimed the rifle toward the scientist. "Give me clothes for him now!"

Friedman pointed to a cabinet on the captain's right. "In there," he said and glanced out the laboratory windows.

The hallway outside the lab had filled with black clad U.B.C. soldiers. Knowing they couldn't break through the thick, shatter proof windows, the soldiers focused around the door presumably using a device to hack through the scrambled electronic lock.

Jack also glanced out the window and smirked as he grabbed a pair of light blue hospital trousers from the cabinet. He wasn't pleased with the odds stacking up against his rescuing the Doctor, but he saw Alice standing out there. The two locked eyes a brief moment. Alice's slight nod informed Jack that their plan was ready. All he had to do was get the Doctor to the TARDIS in the lab just down the hall.

"Hey, Doctor," Jack said once he was by his friend's side. "I'm going to put these trousers on you and then I'm taking you to the TARDIS, okay?" He unfolded the light cotton pants and worked the Doctor's legs into them.

The Doctor was more animated now as the tranquilizing drugs rapidly metabolized and dissipated in his system. He turned his head from side to side every so often and his teeth chattered despite the sweat that soaked his hair. Indications of a burning fever.

Knowing that he would not be able to carry the Doctor and the rifle at the same time, Jack gently pulled the Time Lord up by the arm to a seated position. "Come on, Doctor," he said as he slung the Doctor's arm over his shoulders. "I'm sorry, but I need you on your feet."

Being suddenly vertical washed over the Doctor like a wave of the clearest water. He felt the fog in his mind lift layer by layer. He opened his eyes, his normal chocolate brown eyes, and looked at his old friend. "Jack," he said quietly. "You... came for me?"

"As soon as I heard," the captain said with a cheeky grin. "Nothing would stop me. Now, come on. On your feet. I know you don't like guns," he held up the rifle in his other hand, "but this is the best I've got to get us out of here." He looked at the old scientist sitting quietly on the stool. "Friedman, get over here. You get to be my hostage."

Friedman visibly gulped and the wink from the captain didn't ease his nerves. He did not like being in this situation at all and now he regretted shoving Bolt as hard as he did. If that woman hadn't hit her head when she fell, she would be here instead of him. That was Friedman's regret as he slid off the stool and slowly crossed the room.

"Alright, Doctor," Jack said. "Ready?"

The Doctor leaned heavily against Jack, practically hanging from his arm draped across Jack's shoulders. However, he knew he wouldn't fall because Jack supported him with a strong arm, hugging him close. "No, wait," he said. "Help me over to the counter."

The captain did as the Time Lord asked even as he glanced at the laboratory door. He wasn't sure how much longer the code scrambling he did to the lock would hold.

Once the Doctor was sitting on a stool in front of the counter, he straightened his back and picked up an empty syringe. With a renewed sense of purpose, he stabbed the needle into his arm and filled the syringe with his blood. His body began to glow once again with a faint golden light.

Jack took a step back from the Doctor as the signs of Time Lord regeneration shined brighter than before. "Um, Doctor," he glanced nervously at the door again, "I'm not sure how much longer we have before they get in."

"I just need a moment," the Doctor said in a barely audible voice while his hands moved faster and faster picking up glass vials and various liquids from the racks in front of him. He stirred and mixed with a speed so fast, his movements became a blur.

"My god," Friedman said under his breath.

The captain's mouth hung open slightly as he watched the Doctor work. He knew the Time Lord was extraordinary, but this was unheard of. How much did the G-virus really change the Doctor? He wondered.

The Doctor did not look up as he poured the liquid he had just created into a glass canister with twin spiral tubes inside. Once the tubes were full, he held the canister up to the overhead light and was satisfied with the bright green liquid.

"What is that?" Friedman asked and took a step closer to get a better view of the green substance. His scientific curiosity made him temporarily forget the situation he was in.

"The cure to the T-virus." The Doctor spoke indifferently as Jack handed him a white lab coat that he slipped on without a second thought.

"What do you think you're doing?" Friedman, forgetting who he was talking to, grabbed the Doctor by the arm. "I can't let you take that!"

The Time Lord slowly turned his head and stared up at Friedman with a glare that struck fear in the other man's heart. "How dare you!" The Doctor shouted in a tone that made the scientist staggered back. "I crash here and instead of helping me, what do you do?! You experiment on me mutating me into some sort of thing! And you think you're going to tell me what to do?"

Friedman shrank away from the Doctor as if he stood in the face of the most evil thing in existence. "I... I..." He stammered and glanced at the various items scattered about the counter looking for something to use for defense.

The Doctor slowly rose to his feet, but used the counter to support his still weak frame. His dark brown eyes bespoke the fury that raged within. "You could have had so much," he said as his eyes turned golden. "I gave you one chance. Just one." He took a step forward.

The old scientist shook in terror as he stared wide eyed at the furious alien and wanted to run, but his legs refused to move.

"Doctor." Jack reached out toward his friend, but thought better of it and pulled his hand back. The Doctor was angry and rightfully so. He knew that the Time Lord wasn't going to kill the man, no matter how much it might be deserved, but he wasn't sure how much the Doctor had changed.

With a solid grip on Friedman's forehead, the Doctor destroyed the mental barrier inside the scientist's mind. "Injected yourself with the G-virus," the Doctor said. "So that's how you kept me out before." Now that Friedman's mind was open, he opened up his own mind.

Friedman pressed his back against a locker as all the Time Lord's memories of all that the alien had ever seen and ever known crashed into his mind like a tidal wave. The knowledge of the universe was too much for his human mind. He sank to the floor and screamed at his own insanity.

"W-what did you do?" Jack spoke in a whispered voice as he stared wide-eyed at the writhing scientist on the floor. He looked back at his friend, a look of disbelief and... apprehension.

The Doctor shot a glare at Jack with the intent of angrily defending his actions, but paused after seeing that expression on the captain's face. He slumped back onto the stool and buried his face in his hands. "What have I become, Jack?"

"If you're asking that question," Jack stood next to his friend and gently laid his hand on the Time Lord's shoulder, "you're still you. Now, we really need to go. Can you walk?"

With an unsure nod, the Doctor used the counter to help stand on his own two feet. He dropped the anti-virus canister into a pocket on his lab coat. He took a step away from the counter and started to fall.

"Answers that," Jack said as he caught the Doctor in his arms. He helped the Time Lord over to the door where his friend leaned against the wall. He heard Alice shouting orders to move further down the hall and he knew that was a tactic to thin the crowd a bit from the door.

With Friedman drooling on the floor, using him as a hostage was no longer an option. Jack slipped the rifle off his shoulder and dropped it to the ground.

Suddenly, the door swung open. Jack stood face to face with the heavily armed soldiers. A wide grin spread across his face. "Are you boys here for me?" He curled his fingers into fists. "And it's not even my birthday."

.

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To be continued!


	16. Chapter 16

Hauff jumped at the sudden sound of the alarm. He focused an intense, fear-filled gazed at the pulsing red light above the laboratory door. His senses were already heightened by his own actions and the alarm just sent them into hyper drive.

"Shit," he said with a hiss. It had been about six hours, hadn't it? Yes, he was rather sure that his time was up and that the alarm was triggered because of him.

An image flashed through his mind of black clad, gun toting security soldiers marching single file into his lab. They dragged him away kicking and screaming down a dimly lit corridor. He is strapped down to a table. Friedman hovered over him with an evil grin and a syringe filled with the T-virus.

That image inflamed his panic.

Hauff grabbed up the last of the charges and detonators in his arms and bolted into the TARDIS.

.

.

As soon as Captain Harkness charged out of the laboratory and slammed into the soldiers surrounding the door, Alice flew into action. She shoved her elbow into the side of a soldier's head for a quick knockout and kicked high to knock another soldier down.

The hand full of men around her was slow to comprehend her actions. The last man standing figured out too late that the security chief turned traitor. The last thing he saw was the heel of Alice's booted foot as it arced around and slammed hard into his face.

Jack, meanwhile, took a punch to his jaw that was hard enough to turn his head. He blinked away the pain that threatened to send him into darkness and returned the blow with a solid punch of his own.

Through all the brawling chaos, the Doctor stayed at the laboratory doorway with his forehead pressed against the wall. He glanced at Friedman, who stared wide-eyed into nothing, and swallowed. What _did_ he do? He wasn't even sure. No. That was a lie. He knew exactly what he did and that's what scared him.

"Doctor!"

The Doctor lifted his head and stared at Jack with uncertainty.

Jack slipped the Time Lord's arm around his shoulders. "Those men that Alice sent around the corner are coming back," he said as he walked the Doctor over an unconscious soldier on the floor.

"Come on! Come on!" Alice frantically waved her hand to help convey the fact that they really should be running.

The captain looked behind him as the first U.B.C. soldier cleared the corner, while the Doctor stumbled and almost fell. "You know," he scooped the Doctor into his arms, "I've always wanted to sweep you off your feet."

"Oh, stop it, Jack," the Doctor said with a stifled chuckle.

Jack grinned as he ran on down the hall past Alice. Everything always boiled down to this, running with the Doctor. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed it until now. All this time waiting for his Doctor, he'd forgotten. He'd tried to make up for it by getting involved with Torchwood, but nothing compared to this, right now. For the first time since Satellite 5, he felt at peace.

Shots rang out as the soldiers opened fire.

"What are you doing?" Alice screamed, her shouts echoed down the corridor. "I ordered you not to use your guns!"

The Doctor looked over Jack's shoulder at Alice frantically flailing her arms trying to get in the way of her men. The soldiers ignored her orders and ran around her as she tried to fight them back. He smiled at her bravery and determination. He wanted to show her the stars.

A falter in Jack's steady stride shifted the Doctor out of his thoughts. He looked at the face of his old friend and caught the sharp pained expression. "Jack?"

"I'm fine," Jack said with a hard swallow as he rounded a corner and continued running, although his pace had slowed and his breathing became labored.

"Are you hurt? Stop and put me down." The Doctor didn't see anything immediately wrong, but that didn't mean there wasn't. Then suddenly, he could see right into Jack's mind. Every thought displayed clearly for him to read. His telepathy had been greatly enhanced by the T-virus to an extent that was quickly becoming apparent.

"I can't stop." The captain struggled in his footsteps. "Their right behind us."

"Jack!" The Doctor grabbed Jack by the collar. "Put me down now!" An unintentional lick of telepathic command lashed out of his mind.

Jack's eyes glazed over. He stopped in his tracks and dropped the Doctor's legs for the Time Lord to stand.

The Doctor realized what he'd done and withdrew the control. "I didn't mean to, Jack," he said as he shook his head and couldn't believe what he had done. He was losing control. The T-virus was still at work within him and it was winning. "I'm sorry."

The captain blinked and shot the Time Lord a look of disbelief that melted into pity. "Don't worry about it, Doctor. You might have had a point anyway," Jack said as he leaned against the wall. He reached around to his lower back and touched a spot that was far too moist to be sweat from running and fighting. He held his hand up and stared at his blood soaked fingers. "So much for a bulletproof vest," he said with a faltering smile.

Now strong enough to stand on his own two feet, the Doctor glanced at the blood. His thoughts swam with options of what to do as the heavy footsteps of the security soldiers echoed through the corridor. Any second now, those men would come around that corner and...

"It's ok," Jack said as he slid down the wall and sat on the floor. "Something happened to me on Satellite 5..."

"I know and leaving you here is out of the question," the Doctor said and closed his eyes. "You're immortal and you certainly can't stay here."

"There they are!" The U.B.C. security team poured around the corner at the end of the corridor. Open fire!" The men in front dropped to their knees and all aimed their rifles.

The reports of the rifles clattered loudly down the hall in an almost unbearable cacophony as bullets flew toward their targets.

"Doctor!" Jack screamed and grappled for the Time Lord's arm to pull him down.

The Doctor opened his eyes, now shining with a sharp white light. The bullets stopped in mid-air several feet in front of him and fell uselessly to the floor as if they struck an invisible force field. Then the bullets stopped coming and the gunfire ceased altogether.

The men at the end of the hall then turned on each other. Using fists and the butt of their rifles, they engaged in a chaotic free-for-all brawl that ended when each of the twenty men lay in unconscious heaps on the floor.

Forgetting about the pain of the bullet wound in his back, Jack sat speechless at his friend's display of unbridled mutant psychic power. "Well," he said with a swallow that betrayed the nervousness behind his cheeky grin. "You sure showed them."

The Doctor whipped his head around and gazed at Jack with his eerily glowing eyes. "I've had enough of this. We're leaving," he said evenly as he turned to continue down the hall to the TARDIS.

Jack's protest caught in his throat as he felt invisible hands lift him off the floor and carry him just inches off the floor behind the Doctor. While he didn't know this incarnation of the Doctor, he felt he knew the alien rather well from his time in the TARDIS. It was clear that the virus within the Time Lord had made some significant changes. While some of those changes were amazing, the fact was Jack found it terrifying.

The pace down the corridor was a steady walking speed. The Doctor was still not a hundred percent, but he was thankful that he was able to move on his own two feet. He was near a turn in the corridor when he noticed a shadow moving on the floor from just around the corner. He stopped.

A man stepped around the corner. He was in his early fifties with peppered combed back hair wearing a fine black suit that did little to conceal the extra weight around the waist that is so easily gained amongst the wealthy with a desk job. When he came face to face with the Doctor, he stopped and raised the strange device he held in his hand. Without a word, his thumb pressed a button on the side of the device.

The high pitched squeal the device emitted mercilessly bore straight into the Doctor's mind. He clutched the sides of his head and screamed as he collapsed to the floor. The glow in his eyes faded away as he writhed in agony.

Without the Doctor's concentration, Jack was dropped like a sack of potatoes, but he landed on his hands and knees. While he found the sound of the device annoying, it was not painful, but it was familiar. As he looked closer, he realized that the device was the Doctor's sonic screwdriver. It had been modified with a larger lens, but it was definitely the sonic.

"You're not going anywhere, alien," the man said with a triumphant smile as he took a step closer and continued to aim the sonic at the Doctor. "You," he pointed at Jack, "grab him and take him back to the lab."

At first, Jack was confused.

Either this man thought he had also bested Jack, or he thought Jack was a U.B.C. soldier taken hostage.

In the end, it didn't matter and Jack took advantage of it. He climbed to his feet and channeled strength through the pain of his gunshot wound. Charging forward, he grinned at the shocked look on the man's face.

Jack tackled the man square in the chest and the both of them tumbled to the floor with Jack landing on top. The sonic bounced out of the man's hand and fell silent.

"I'm Carl Hurst, you idiot!" Mr. Hurst exclaimed and tried to shove Jack off.

"That supposed to mean something?" Jack asked and brought a fist down on Hurst's jaw.

The Doctor's head throbbed in residue pain from the sonic, but he managed to rise to his hands and knees. He drew in several deep breaths and looked up at the struggle between an injured Jack and the CEO of the Umbrella Corporation. At first, he was not concerned, but he spied the pistol that Hurst was reaching for. "Jack!" He reached out, but it all happened so quickly.

A shot rang out. Then another. And then another.

Jack gasped as the bullets tore through his body from where Hurst had turned the pistol into his side just under the end of the armored vest. As he felt his life slip away again, a feeling he knew all too well, he glanced at the Doctor and he grew afraid. Not for what Hurst would do to the Doctor, but what the Doctor was going to do to Hurst.

Carl Hurst pushed Jack's lifeless body off him and snatched up the sonic. He silently thanked whichever entity might be listening that the device didn't fall very far. Without wasting time to sit up, he aimed the device at the angry alien whose eyes had already begun to glow.

The Doctor was too late in stirring up his power to unleash on the CEO. The screech of the altered sonic crashed into his mind and rendered him powerless again. Somewhere under the pain, the Doctor wept. Not only was he still trapped in this hellhole, but the immortal Jack was also at the mercy of the Umbrella Corporation.

"I ought to kill you, you alien piece of shit," Hurst said as he climbed to his feet. He stepped over to the writhing Doctor and delivered a swift kick into the Time Lord's gut. "Do you know how much money you've cost me?" Another kick. "You almost cost me my job." Another kick and blood spurted out of the Doctor's mouth. The kick also knocked the canister from the Doctor's lab coat pocket.

The CEO picked up the canister and marveled at the green liquid inside. "I've changed my mind," Hurst said and watched the Doctor squirmed and whimpered under the effect of the sonic. He aimed his pistol at the alien's head. "I've had about enough of you."

Two shots rang out. The sound of each echoed through the Doctor's mind. The sonic screech ceased.

For a moment, the Doctor thought he was dead, but when the expected wave of regeneration didn't come, he opened his eyes. He watched Hurst fall over with the blank stare of death for an expression. And then there she was, standing there with arms outstretched and hands wrapped around a pistol that still smoked from the two shots she fired. The one who saved him from Carl Hurst and the Doctor smiled.

Alice.

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To be continued!

* * *

**A/N: Poor Jack! He was doing so well, but this is a whump story and not even BAMF Jack was going to come out unscathed :)**


	17. Chapter 17

Alice stared wide eyed into the space where CEO Carl Hurst once stood. Did she really just shot a man? To save an alien? She shuddered as Hurst's head hit the floor with a sickening thud. Yes, she did. Slowly, the frozen shock of the harsh realization wore away and she lowered her pistol with a dry swallow.

Her eyes fell as her arms did until they rested on the crumpled form of the Doctor. Returning her weapon to its holster on her hip, she jumped over Hurst's corpse and dropped to a knee near the Time Lord. "Doctor?" She asked and gently rested a hand on the alien's shoulder.

He moaned and mumbled something unintelligible. Hopefully, that was a good sign.

Alice cringed at the sight of Hurst's blood splattered across the Doctor. The red speckles and splotches were a stark contrast against the Time Lord's pale skin and white lab coat, the blood did not suit the Doctor somehow. Giving the Time Lord a moment, she moved over to Jack.

At the sight of Jack's darkening rings around the eyes, blue lips and whitening skin, Alice pursed her lips as she pressed two fingers into Jack's neck. With a sigh, she shook her head. For a brief moment, she wondered how Jack's corpse would be explained, but then her logical mind kicked in and mapped out how she would simply bury the body in with the others down here.

"...Alice... you..." the Doctor said weakly as he pushed himself up. He screwed his eyes closed tighter under the pressure of sitting upright. The modified sonic had ripped through his mind like long sharp claws raking across his brain. He imagined that his brain was physically scratched and rubbed his palm on his scalp that only succeeded in teasing his spiky brown hair out on end.

Alice returned to the Doctor and crouched next to him, resting a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Come on, Doctor," she said with kind urgency as she draped the Doctor's arm over her shoulder. "We don't have much time to get out of here." She stood and lifted the Doctor with her. She stumbled at first, not expecting to support nearly the full weight of the Time Lord, but she found her footing and began to lead the Doctor away.

"Wait... Jack," the Doctor said in barely a mumble and motioned to the captain's body at his feet.

"I'm sorry, Doctor," Alice said with a heavy sigh. "But Jack is gone." She meant to continue, but the Doctor stopped her.

"No, he isn't," the Time Lord said with a slight smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

"I know he was your friend, but I checked him," Alice said in a tone that was a bit too harsh then she liked, but with the chaos of the Doctor's escape, the Red Queen triggered the timer on the thick blast door at the top of Hive. "He's gone and we have got to get moving."

"Just wait a minute. He'll be fine." The Doctor tried to pull away from Alice, but she held him tight.

"Doctor," Alice said firmly. She couldn't believe that anyone could be in this much denial over a death. Couldn't the Time Lord see the death in Jack's face? Apparently not. "The lock down sequence has been triggered and if we don't get past the blast door in fourteen minutes, we're not getting out." She marched on carrying the Doctor with her and ignored any further protests.

The Doctor was too weak at the moment to physically fight against Alice and he certainly wasn't going to use his newfound power on her like he accidentally did with Jack. He continued to try to make her wait, but Alice would hear none of it and kept moving.

The pair rounded a corner and turned left into the lobby where the TARDIS had crashed. Alice exhaled in relief at the sight of the elevators that lead the way out of the Hive. She let the Doctor lean against a nearby wall and pressed the button to call the elevator. "Come on," she said impatiently as she stared at the display above the elevator door that ticked away the floor numbers ever so slowly.

Only a few minutes had passed since the sonic attack and already the Doctor felt much better. Not a hundred percent, but he didn't need support to stand anymore. He shuddered that he had the T-virus to thank for the speedy recovery. "Alice," he said as he turned and looked the woman in the eye. "I'm not leaving without my TARDIS." He took a step back, the first step back down the corridors into the Hive.

"What?" Alice stared at the Time Lord. She then realized that the Doctor hadn't seen the state of the ship and what Hauff had done to it. "I'm sorry, but your ship is destroyed."

"What?" The Doctor narrowed his eyes at Alice. He couldn't believe it. Not after everything he and the old girl had been through.

Alice lowered her eyes. "Hauff dismantled the inside of it. It's in pieces. I'm sorry."

Pursing his lips in concentration, the Doctor mentally swept through the facility for any sign of life from his beloved time ship. He felt... nothing. "No," he whispered as a chill shuddered down his spine. Without another word, he spun on his heel and bolted down the hall.

.

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Wesker rose from his seat behind the desk in the Chief of Security office. Through the monitors, he had seen enough and it was time to act. Leaving the office, he strode down the corridor with precise purpose and wore a neutral expression despite the chaotic aftermath around him.

Stepping over the unconsciousness and dead men lying on the floor as he approached his destination, he made his way to Laboratory 42 and stood at the door. The automatic door kept trying to slide close, but repeatedly bumped into the ankle of a soldier that draped across the threshold.

Wesker smirked at the sight and pushed aside the door.

Entering the lab, he straightened his expensive gun metal gray suit as he strode to the counter in several easy steps. He paused and snickered at the crumpled, whimpering form of Doctor Friedman on the floor. He leaned over and regarded the other man a moment. "Keeping the alien under sedation wasn't enough, now was it?" He spoke in a mocking tone with an equally mocking grin.

Friedman was oblivious to Wesker's question, voice and presence.

"Should have listened to me and killed the thing when you had the chance," Wesker said and smiled a crooked smile. He abruptly held his wrist up to look at his watch. Paying Friedman no more attention, he set about collecting what he came here for.

Sliding over a metal briefcase that sat on the counter, he opened the lid. Then he turned to the canisters of blue liquid in the spiral tubes within. The T-virus. The most beautiful creation ever to come out of Umbrella's Bio-weapons Division... at least in the eyes of Wesker.

He held up a canister and smiled an almost loving smile as he admired the potent T-virus. His thoughts began to swim with what he could do with the virus. With it, he could dominate the human race and rule over them as an all powerful god that none could match

The urgency of the Hive's situation forced him out of his revelry. He was well aware that the Red Queen activated the lock down sequence meant to seal the Hive. He set the canister in a foam slot in the briefcase along with an injector gun. Now, he needed the missing component to this vicious little kit.

Closing the briefcase lid, he wasted no more time. Stepping on the back of a U.B.C. soldier as he left the lab ignoring the groan of pain he caused, Wesker walked briskly down the corridors with the metal case in hand following the same path as Alice and the alien.

When he came across the corpse of CEO Carl Hurst, Wesker smirked. He glanced at the dead soldier laying just a couple of feet away from Hurst and recognized the soldier as the man that was helping the alien escape. Wesker intended to continue on his way, but he spied the shining chrome canister filled with an emerald green liquid lying near Hurst's body and stopped in his tracks.

He couldn't believe his luck. He had planned on meeting up with the alien on the train to the Hive's entrance and collecting the anti-virus then, but this was absolutely perfect. Crouching down, he sat the briefcase on the floor and opened it. He picked up the anti-virus with pleased smile.

Suddenly, the dead soldier opened his eyes and gasped for breath as he sat straight up.

Wesker did well to hide his surprise under his cultivated cold exterior and dark sunglasses. Instead, he merely tilted his head to the side and regarded the man that used to be dead.

Jack was quick to gain his bearings and looked at Wesker. "Who are you?" He asked glancing at the metal briefcase at the man's feet. He noticed the anti-virus canister in the man's hand.

Wesker smiled a smile that would have been charming on anyone else. "You're an alien too, I see," he said as he fitted the anti-virus in the foam inside the briefcase. "I was wondering if there would be an extraterrestrial rescue party." He closed the case and snapped the locks down.

"Oh, I'm not an alien," Jack said as he climbed to his feet and looked down at the other man. "And I can't let you take the anti-virus."

Standing up, Wesker's smile turned crooked and smug. "Is that so?"

Jack had no weapons of any kind on him, save two... his fists. He lunged forward swinging a fist hard and fast at Wesker's face.

Wesker moved his head to avoid the punch, a simple movement that was inhumanly fast. He brought his knee up as Jack lumbered forward into it.

Attributing the clumsiness to his recent resurrection, Jack reached up and clawed at Wesker's head, knocking away the dark sunglasses from the man's face.

Letting go of the briefcase, Wesker grabbed Jack by the collar of the Kevlar vest and the top of the trousers. With little effort, he lifted Jack above his head.

Jack flailed his arms and kicked his legs, but he had a pretty good idea of what was going to happen next. Wesker threw him through the air and he slammed against the wall on the other side of the corridor. With the air knocked out, he stayed down. The man was impossibly strong and he couldn't afford to die again.

Unimpressed by his easy victory, Wesker tugged his suit jacket straight. He picked up the briefcase and his sunglasses and stepped over to Jack. Leaning over, he smiled. "I think the anti-virus is staying with me, don't you?"

Jack looked up and swallowed as he stared into Wesker's blood red, slightly glowing eyes.

Wesker delivered a powerful kick to Jack's stomach, then turned and walked away. The echoing click of his dress shoes faded away into silence in a matter of seconds.

After a moment, a long moment of waiting for the pain in his gut to subside enough from him to move, Jack climbed to his feet and made his way down the hall toward the TARDIS.

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To be continued!

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**A/N: Wesker is one evil sucker and he is the villain of the Resident Evil films, if your interested in seeing him in action and why he had those glowing red eyes. :D**


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